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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23370565">That Blonde Curl</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mircalla74/pseuds/Mircalla74'>Mircalla74</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gentleman Jack (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Sex, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex at work, Sexual Roleplay, Strap-Ons, Useless Lesbians</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:47:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>68,878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23370565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mircalla74/pseuds/Mircalla74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne Lister meets Ann Walker in a bar. Things move pretty swiftly from there.</p><p>NSFW - which is ideal, as most of us aren't there at the moment!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>419</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>453</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Wedding Breakfast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ann Walker woke early on the morning of her wedding. She rose, washed, and began to put on her wedding dress. She started with the underwear, white lace boned corset, silk cami knickers, her legs bare, with a light touch of fake tan. Then the petticoats, soft as a feather, with tens of layers of fluffy chiffon, hemmed with a broad band of white ribbon. Finally, the main event. The dress had a tight white silk bodice, with capped sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. The skirt full, silvery white lace on silk. Her late mother's blue garter that Elizabeth had worn before her, an heirloom to be passed onto Ann's future daughter when the time comes for her to be a bride. She stood in front of the mirror, moved her hair over one shoulder, and clipped in her tiara. Tiny flowers in diamante crystals, some on fine wires, allowing them to roam through her blonde curls. She smiles. She looks like a Disney princess. She twirled in front of the mirror. Smiling. Filled with life, and looking forward to the next chapter. </p><p>She is alone. Her sister and cousin are both asleep in adjacent rooms. This was supposed to have been her wedding day, but her groom had died almost three months ago. </p><p>She really had felt devastated about Andrew's death. He was a good man. The very best. And she had been very fond of him. Marrying him would have ended her families obsession with fortune hunters, after she inherited half of her father's estate on his death 10 years ago. The tribe, as she and Elizabeth called them, had been all over her ever since. But when she had been introduced to Mr Andrew Fraser at a dinner party held by elderly Mrs Rawson, Catherine's grandmother, they had got along straight away. He was kind, and he listened to her when she spoke. He had his own money, and appeared to like her just for herself. The nicest man she had ever known. It was the best she could have hoped for, and now he was gone. And the future they had talked about on the day that they had become engaged, when they'd stayed up all night talking about where they would live, if they would travel, how many children they would have and when, and what they would be like, all of it had gone with him. She missed him.</p><p>The dress looked perfect on her, but it wasn't going to be her wedding dress. Not anymore. She spun around before the mirror one last time, the light lace layers spinning around with her. The clock in the hall chimed 8.30. She really ought to take the dress off. She didn't want Elizabeth or Catherine walking in and catching her. She didn't need their tears, their sympathy. She didn't want the family hearing about this, and imagining that she was about to turn into some sort of Miss Havisham figure. Once the dress was packed back into it's tissue, and the box lid closed, that would be the last time she would think about it. And, as long as Elizabeth or Catherine don't go on about it, today could be the very last time she would think about the wedding at all. </p><p>Ann could hear someone in the hall, and then hear the bathroom door lock. The morning had started, and she needed to be strong. She just had to get through it unscathed, with as little pity as possible.</p><p>Downstairs, she was surprised to find Elizabeth already dressed, drinking coffee in the kitchen. When Ann walked in, she looked up, put her cup down and, her eyes never leaving Ann's, crumpled her face into a tearless cry. Ann walked up to her, and hugged her in silence. She pulled her back by the shoulders, to show Elizabeth her face. </p><p>"Don't cry. Please, Elizabeth don't cry. I'm not. I've done my crying"</p><p>"Oh Ann! You are so brave, you know" sobbed Elizabeth, the tears flowing for real now. </p><p>Catherine walked in, hair wet from her shower, and stood watching the sisters as they clung to one another. Her eyes well up too. Today was going to be a hard day for Ann, but they would get her through it. With Catherine and Elizabeth behind her, she would be fine. Eventually. Catherine was sure. </p><p>Ann turned to face her, and Catherine was surprised that it was Ann consoling Elizabeth, and not the other way around. Ann smiled at Catherine. </p><p>"Let's not be sad today. Let's go out! Have some lunch, grab a couple of cocktails. We can drink to Andrew's life, and to my future. I just don't want to think about anything sad today"</p><p>The women sit together, very quietly. Elizabeth pouring coffee for everyone, as Ann scans through her phone for ideas of where to go. She rarely goes out to bars or restaurants, she doesn't really drink, but she wants to choose somewhere nice. Somewhere you can have a quiet lunch and a decent cocktail or two, made with care. Catherine cranes her neck over Ann's shoulder to look, as she scrolls through the pages on the restaurant guide website. She shouts out when she spots 'Nest'. She had been there a few months ago with her sister and her sister's friends. It was very nice. Lovely furnishings, tiny booths, like sitting in a cocoon. Or a nest, Elizabeth points out. They decide to get ready slowly, and get really dressed up, as though they were going to stay out all night. Ann fancied the idea of being one of those girls who starts her night in the afternoon. Ann is excited. Today isn't going to be awful after all. She just needs to keep the conversation light, and keep her relatives away from talk of the wedding.</p><p>They arrive at nest just before 1pm, dressed to kill, each in skyscraper heels, glossy hair, false eyelashes and skin tight dresses. Ann is wearing a pale gold sequined mini dress, her blonde curly hair down, in full ringlets, her eyes adorned with full lashes and glitter. They are shown straight to a booth, and cross the room with the waitress. In doing so, they pass by a table with two women, older than their group, chatting. Elizabeth recognises her first, then Ann. Eliza Priestley, a friend of their mother, sitting talking quite animatedly with a dark haired woman in a sharp black suit. Ann began to walk even faster when she saw her. Eliza had been invited to the wedding, and she really could do without her pity right now. She hoped she could pass by without being seen. She was wrong.</p><p>Anne Lister had been sitting with Eliza for almost an hour, and all Eliza had talked about was Ann Walker's wedding and the dead fiance. Her depression almost certain to come back again. She was sure to be sat in the house all day today, windows shuttered to keep the light out like Miss Havisham, no doubt. Anne had wondered how she was going to get the conversation moved onto to something less depressing, but after a couple of failed redirections, she knew she was in this for the long haul. She did remember Ann Walker. She was little more than a school kid when her parents both died, and had been looked after by a selection of relations before she left for university. Anne had seen her once since then, a skinny, flat chested little thing with frizzy hair and a brace. She had once chased Anne down the road, breathless by the time she had caught up with her, asking if she would meet her for a drink in town. The audacity of the girl, Anne had thought. She must have only been about 18 or 19 at the time. Her childlike crush was showing, and Anne had had to let her down gently. Told her she didn't need the agro of Ann's family thinking she was a cradle snatcher, laughed it all off a little as she walked the girl back to her gate. It was easy done, as the kid wasn't particularly appealing anyway. </p><p>What was appealing were the group of young women who had arrived to drink prosecco until closing, dressed for a night out in the afternoon. The little blonde in the tight sequined dress was especially interesting, as she rushed past their table, clearly eager to start her days drinking. Anne Lister had never been overly interested in the sort of women who drink all day, dressed for the night. But for a dalliance, they were perfect. Her eyes followed the blonde to her seat, and continued to watch her as she sat down, seeing how her blonde curls cascaded down her narrow back, pale skin illuminated by the glow reflected from the sequins. Eliza continued her tale of woe, Anne hmm ing and ahh ing in the right places, as she sat back, drank her whiskey and watched the girl throw her hair over one shoulder, exposing her neck, a tendril of curl tangled up in her earring. Anne can't take her eyes away from her, from that curl, wondering how she might get away from this excruciating conversation, and over to the other side of the room to where the day time drinking temptress was busy downing her first bottle. </p><p>Ann realised that she had drunk her first two glasses far too quickly. So, knowing that she wasn't up to that pace, she sat back on her third. She genuinely felt happy. Apprehensive, but happy. She had no idea who her tribe of relations would try to pair her up with next, but she knew that it wouldn't be for a good long while, and she was already feeling grateful for the space. He also wouldn't be someone as understanding as Andrew Fraser had been. She still couldn't quite believe that she wouldn't see him again. He hadn't known he had a hereditary heart condition until the heart attack. He was gone within minutes of arriving at the hospital. His young life snuffed out. His bride now left all alone. Theirs hadn't been a great love affair, but they had been comfortable together. He lived in Leeds, and they spoke on the phone a couple of times a week, and Andrew sent her texts in the week if he saw or heard something funny that he wanted to share with her. He knew her sense of humour well, like noone else. Her family never asked why they hadn't made the leap of living together, and she always told her aunts that they spoke every evening. She knew it wasn't the norm to spend so little time in one anothers company before declaring a lifetime of love for someone, but things had suited the two of them, and that was enough. She was suddenly overcome with a fear that she would never find a man who suited her as well again. There was almost a tear, but she managed to sweep it back under her enormous lashes. She was determined not to look behind her, as she was glad that Eliza Priestley hadn't spotted her, and she didn't want her to catch her eye by accident. After they had been in the bar for a while, and had ordered a pizza to share with salad, Ann began to relax. Elizabeth and Catherine were into the party spirit now, both amazed but happy that Ann was in such good spirits too. They ordered another bottle, tucked into their booth, whilst Ann perched on the stool beside them. </p><p>Suddenly, Eliza was tapping Anne on the arm.</p><p>"Anne? You are miles away! I was just asking if you wanted another coffee before we leave?"</p><p>"Oh? So sorry! Yes, miles away! No, no, I think I will be fine. Yes, I need to be getting off back up to the hall. Catch up with my aunt before dinner"</p><p>"Oh, well it has been a tonic to see you, Anne! You are kind to lend an ear today. I just knew I wouldn't be able to rest at home. Such a sad day when it ought to have been so happy" Eliza started to well up again. "But, enough of that. Thank you for listening" She reached over to squeeze Anne's hand "You are a good friend".</p><p>Anne smiled at Eliza, nodded at a passing waiter, and paid for them both with her card. As they stood to leave, she looked over once again at the troop of club bunnies getting stuck into a round of cocktails and another bottle of fizz. The blonde had stood up, swaying slightly on her gold heels, and was leant over her table talking to her friends, exposing more of her silky thighs, the skirt of her dress clinging just beneath her small but perfectly formed bottom. Anne wondered if the girl was wearing tights, or if she had a light tan. Her legs looked both smooth and delicious. She wondered if she was wearing knickers. Eliza started to move towards the door, still talking about what a mess Ann Walker will be in today. Anne turned away from the object of her lust, to follow Eliza from the bar. She had had an idea. </p><p>When they got to the corner, Eliza turned to give her a hug goodbye. </p><p>"Well, this is me! I'm going to walk home from here, I think. Blow the cobwebs away! Thank you, again, for listening. I'm going to go up to Lydgate in the next few days, to see how Ann is coping. She has her sister there now, but she will need more company when she goes back to Edinburgh. Perhaps you could join me? Ann always adored you, you know, when she was a child"</p><p>Anne was fully aware of how Ann had adored her. She still had no intention of visiting the woman now or any other day. She smiled at Eliza.</p><p>"Well, I will have to see I am afraid. I have quite a lot to do around the hall, and my aunt would like to see me as much as possible whilst I am home"</p><p>"Of course! Think on it, but thank you for today anyway!"</p><p>Eliza hugged her again, Anne pulling back first. Eliza smiled, before turning and heading off.</p><p>Anne stood back, against the wall of the bar. She lit a cigarette, and wondered if the best idea wasn't actually doing what she had told Mrs Priestley she was planning. To go home, and sort out the garden with her aunt. She had only just returned from working in Paris for the last five years, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she was off again. Her aunt deserved her help and attention. But the girl in the sequined dress had her blood raging. Those thighs. That arse. Christ, she was only human. She flicked the cigarette butt into the road, and headed back through the door, and into the bar she had just left.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Man at the Bar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anne Lister gets back to the bar, and takes her time...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anne strides back into the bar. She has to be on her A game. She isn't getting any younger, but that girl made her feel reckless. How old was she? 25? Older? Not much older. Anne smiled to herself. The vision of those thighs and that arse almost made her feel 25 again. This could be a risky one. It was the middle of the day, she was back home in Halifax where everyone knew her, everyone knew her family. And the girl might turn out to be straight. Stranger things had happened. But whatever, that blonde was worth the chase.</p><p>Anne scanned the room, and realised she couldn't see the girl anymore. Perhaps she had left unseen? Moved on to the next bar? If that was the case, Anne was happy to follow. She was wondering which place might have been the girls next stop, when she saw the waiter go over to the booth the blonde had been sat at the side of, carrying a tray with six lurid coloured cocktails. The girls friends were still there, chatting to the young man serving them as he collected the abundance of empty glasses, laughing at something he said. Whatever these girls were celebrating, they were more than into the spirit now. But where was that little blonde?</p><p>Ann Walker had never drunk so much in all her days. She sat on the toilet, her head resting on the partition at the side of her. She grinned to herself. She felt amazing! Wild! She also felt very wobbly. She pulled her phone out of her handbag. It was still only 3.30pm! Paralytic at 3.30pm in the afternoon. Ann was living dangerously today, she thought. She was proud of herself. Usually so buttoned up, her life had been very quiet since university. Who was she kidding? Her university life had been quiet too. But today? She was getting through so many firsts today! First time getting royally drunk in the afternoon, first time drinking rum, first time dressed in a tight mini dress, courtesy of Catherine's extensive, and still portable, wardrobe. First time she had had false eyelashes applied, courtesy of Elizabeth's steady hand. She wondered what she would do next? Dancing on their table? On the bar? Anything seemed possible. She stood up, adjusted herself and opened the door. Faced with her own reflection, she was amazed. She didn't look like Ann Walker. She didn't look like the bride from this morning, or the library assistant she usually sees looking back from a mirror. She looked like something from a celebrity magazine. The sort of girl who goes on holidays to Marbella. The sort of girl in reality TV shows. Her hair looked amazing. The curls so full, so big. Her eyelashes were steadfastly staying put, making her eyes appear huge. She had lost weight these last few weeks, but it seemed to have come off her face, her waist, her arms, not her bust or arse. Both were full, round and looking good. Her breasts lifted and squeezed together by her underwear. Her lips had lost their sheen, though. She reached into her bag, and reapplied pink lip gloss. Then added a little more glitter to her eyes. Rubbing a little across her collar bones. A brush of bronzer in between her full breasts, and she was ready to party again. Those rum cocktails will be waiting for her. She just had to keep forgetting what today was meant to mean. </p><p>She steadied herself, breathing through her nose loudly, pushing back from the basins, walking as deliberately as possible to the door. She ought to slow down the drinking. The thought passed through her mind, momentarily. Then she remembered those rum cocktails, and she giggled to herself. She wasn't about to stop anytime soon. She was free. She was someone else for the day. And that someone wore tight, revealing clothing, high heels and drank rum all day. And probably all night too. </p><p>Anne was sitting on a bar stool, whiskey in hand, and a great view of the table where those glittering girls were seated. One of them looked familiar. Everyone in Halifax looks familiar, she grimaced. The town is so small and claustrophobic, they're all related to one another. It was then that the blonde crashed back into view. She appeared to be very consciously walking as slowly back to her stool as was possible, attempting to maintain a elegant stance whilst tettering on ridiculously high heels. Was she drunk, Anne mused? Yeah, but she didn't seem to be plastered. She watched as she hopped up onto her stool, her friends greeting her return with squeals of delight. Anne wished she had thought to just head to the toilets. She could have caught up with her in there, and have already been sated and on her way back home. Anne knew why she was so slow in her old age. It wasn't out of any misplaced respect for the girl. And respect for girls like this one was always misplaced. She was out of practice, truth be told. The last woman she had got anywhere near was Vere, who after them moving in together just six months ago, promptly decided that she wasn't into women after all. It took Anne having sold up her little flat in Paris, to relocate back to England for Vere to realise this. But, that's women for you, thought Anne bitterly. Duplicitous, vain and cunning. They will take you for what they can get, so why shouldn't she do the same?</p><p>Ann drank the bright orange drink first. It was delicious! The colours striped up the glass to mimick a sunset, it almost appeared that it would glow in the dark. The next one was more of a challenge. In a shorter glass, the flavour of the rum was much stronger, and the ice cubes kept hitting her nose as she sipped from it. Elizabeth was talking a lot louder than usual, and seemed as giddy, and as unlike herself, as Ann was. Catherine, always more confident than her cousins, was enjoying seeing them let rip. She felt very protective over Ann. She had had a rough ten years. A lot of loss. A lot of pain. She had nursed Ann when the depression hit hard, and she had expected this weekend to follow a similar path. She really hadn't expected to be in a bar, drunk as a lord on a Saturday afternoon. She was pleased, but afraid that Ann may simply be postponing her pain for another day. Regardless, she seemed happy now. Catherine jumped up from the booth, and pulling Ann's hand, pulled her from her stool. The music had got to her, and it was time to dance. She didn't know the track, just the usual RnB that bars tend to play quietly in the day time. They had asked the young bar manager to raise the volume ever so slightly, and he had been happy to oblige. Catherine wanted to dance, and she knew Ann would want to dance too.</p><p>They moved a little distance from their seats, giggling, holding hands, and swaying with the music. Ann was laughing, and Catherine was so happy for her, she swooped in and gave her cousin a tight hug. </p><p>"I'm so happy to be here with you today, you know" slurred Catherine. "I love you, you know"</p><p>"I love you too" Ann said through her giggles. "I wouldn't be here today without you" she whispered.</p><p>"Nooo, Ann, don't say that" Catherine said, quickly sobering. Was Ann alluding to her depression? </p><p>"I mean here! In this bar! Wearing a dress that shows everything I've got to the whole world!" Ann laughed, shaking her cousin by the arms in a jovial manner. Catherine grabbed hold of Ann's hips, and started swaying closer and closer, Ann put her arms over Catherine's shoulders, as though they were slow dancing at a school disco. Both were smiling, laughing, and enjoying being young, drunk and free.</p><p>Anne Lister couldn't believe her luck. What a show those two were putting on for anyone who wanted to watch. Anne was very happy to have a front row seat, to see the two girls, one blonde, one brunette, dancing together so closely, their bodies fitting tightly together. The brunettes hands running along the blondes hip bones was the most arousing sight Anne had seen in long time. The blondes arms hugging the brunette to her, her breasts pushed high in her dress, almost toppling out of it, her skirt riding up her thighs as the brunette moved her hands, as they swayed together. All Anne wanted them to do now was kiss, and the floor show would be complete. No, what would make this scene complete would be Anne's hands running along the blondes hips. Anne's hand running up the blondes thigh. Anne has always been amazed at how freely straight girls will slide their bodies together when they've had a drink, and they're dancing with their friends. She used to think that they didn't know the effect they had on others, but time had taught her that wasn't true. They knew men would watch them. It was all part of the mating ritual, and one that Anne wholeheartedly approved of, as long as she could get lucky occasionally herself.</p><p>Elizabeth watched her little sister and cousin dance, and felt warmed by their happiness and affection for one another. She knew that Ann's ebullience wouldn't last, but she knew that once she had gone home to her husband and kids, Ann would be well taken care of by Catherine. The two were so close, and Elizabeth was glad Ann had someone so outgoing, and so reliable to look out for her.<br/>
It was then that Elizabeth became aware of a tall man in a dark suit sitting alone at the bar, drinking, and watching her sister and cousin dance. The man had longish dark hair, to the collar. He wore a black shirt, and really sharp black suit. She found that the alcohol had taken away the clarity of her vision, she could barely focus on him, but she could tell he had his focus set entirely on her little sister as she danced the afternoon away.</p><p>She smiled. Ann had blossomed. The stringy little girl with the frizzy blonde hair had been replaced by a elegant young woman. She laughed a little to herself, thinking about that man at the bar, drooling over her. Little did he know whatever he wanted, wasn't going to happen. Ann had told Elizabeth years ago, even before mum and dad had died, that she was gay. She had developed a raging crush on the niece of their neighbour, who was years older than her, and who was never going to notice her at all. Anne Lister had been a swaggering, arrogant ex public school girl in her 20s, when Ann was 14 and obsessed with her. She always wore bespoke black suits, so they really fitted her well, and she was always buggering off for a year or so, travelling, mountaineering, finding women all over Europe who were as beguiled by her as Ann had been, until one day she moved away, never to come back. Ann cried for weeks when she had heard she wouldn't be returning to Halifax. Elizabeth wondered what that old rake was up to now. Probably the same old.</p><p>Elizabeth hoped that Ann would meet someone who she liked just as much again. Someone nicer though, who would take care of her, and rid her of the idea that she needed to marry a man. As lovely as Andrew had been, Elizabeth was never completely comfortable with Ann getting married to him. She would never have wanted the wedding to be called off like this, but she was quietly glad that it wouldn't now take place. </p><p>She just hoped that Ann would take the time to get to know herself a little, and stop pandering to their aged aunts and other hangers on who really just wanted Ann's share of their fathers properties for themselves. He had built a huge property portfolio from nothing. Starting with his parents council house when he was 18, he had bought it, renovated it and sold it. The next was a bigger project, the one after bigger still, until he stopped having to sell the houses on, and could begin renting them out. Elizabeth inherited 78 houses across West and North Yorkshire. Ann inherited 70, and Lydgate and Crow Nest, their family homes. Neither girl had to work a day in their lives, and Elizabeth had moved to Scotland to marry a Navy Captain. </p><p>She had three kids under 5 years old now, and so was relishing being able to party like this with her little sister and younger cousin. Ann had returned to Halifax after completing her BEd. She had never had the confidence to teach in the end, but she had found a job she loved at the local library. Working in the archives, filing things that came into their care, devoting the same attention to everything, be it a leading Mill Owner's ledger, or a local farmers letters to and from his family in another town. Everything had the same value to Ann, and that is why she was so good at her job. Not that she would ever be able to take that praise. </p><p>Elizabeth's thoughts trailed away as she became aware of the bar manager leaning on their table, smiling at her and saying something? What? </p><p>Anne decided that she had seen enough, and now was the time to act. How the blonde had writhed and wiggled when she was dancing gave Anne Lister the feeling that she would be excellent in the sack. That girl! Christ. It was now or never, so she drank up, and turned to the boy behind the bar. </p><p>"Could you send over another bottle of whatever they're imbibing today? Over to those girls?"</p><p>He looked at the strangely attired, sort of masculine looking woman at the bar, and at the club girls grinding on each other on the dance floor, and realised that she was having the same ideas as he had been. He had never seen a lesbian before. In Halifax too, not Leeds or Manchester where you might expect to meet one. Who knew?</p><p>"Yeah, of course. They've moved onto the cocktails now though. Want me to ask them what they want?"</p><p>"Good Lord, no!" Anne exclaimed. "You don't ask them first, ruins the surprise! Just send them another of what they've had each. Courtesy of the bar fly" and she gestured to herself.</p><p>He poured another glass of whiskey for her, and prepared three hideous looking rum cocktails for the girls. He took them over, the blonde and brunette still pawing at one another, laughing, still dancing so very closely together. The slightly older blonde was speaking to the bar boy, and then looked across towards Anne. She picked up her whiskey and nodded. The older blonde returned Anne's salute with the cocktail she had just been given. Anne smiled. Now, how to prise that little blonde away from her friend?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Game On</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And so the games begin!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elizabeth finds that she can't shout loud enough. The music is booming out from the speakers now, and the bar is starting to fill up with the early Saturday night crowd. Noone is quite as dressed up as the three of them are, but they're certainly beginning to stand out less. She shuffles out of the booth, clumsily, and reaches out to Ann, hand flailing in the air as Ann dances just in front of their table with Catherine. She just manages to catch her arm, swiping the skin briefly, but enough for Ann to look around.</p><p>"Ann! Look! Another drink!"</p><p>Ann stops dancing for a moment, leans over the table, seeing the new drinks on the table. Confused.</p><p>"I didn't think we were ordering more?"</p><p>"We didn't. That bloke at the bar who has been ogling you for ages, he sent them over. Dirty sod, but free drinks?"</p><p>Ann burst out laughing! A man, ogling her and sending her a drink??? That was two more firsts, right there! Men generally didn't notice her, and when they did they were invariably creeps who liked the fact she was shy and had little to say, and she certainly wasn't giving off her usual shy vibe today! Ann turned to the bar, to get a better look at the man her sister was pointing at. Ann recognised her immediately. Her heart stopped. Her mouth went dry. Elizabeth must be more drunk than she had thought, because that wasn't some creepy man. That was Anne Lister. </p><p>Anne watched as the older blonde caught the little blondes attention, and gestured to the source of their new drinks. When the girl turned around to look at her, it was the first time Anne had really seen her. Her face was innocence personified. Huge eyes, an almost doll like expression. Full, rosy lips, smeared with gloss, giving them the look of a girl who knew how to go down, and who loved every minute of it. Her breasts were full, and strained at the low cut neckline of the tight sequined mini dress. And that neckline was low. She really was a delight. Anne couldn't wait to find out if she smelled as good as she looked. She couldn't wait to find out what she tasted like. </p><p>Suddenly, the blonde was looking her right in the eye. Her chest was heaving, her mouth had fallen open, tongue just peeking out. Anne couldn't have received the message more clearly. They were on. She shifted in her seat, pressing her thighs together. The heat between them was intense. But, from what the girl was saying to her with her eyes from across the room, that problem was about to be resolved in the very near future. She checks her watch. It's 3.58pm. So, quickie in a toilet, or in that broom cupboard she spotted earlier, and back home well before 5pm. More than early enough for dinner with her aunt. Early enough to take a walk through the gardens with her aunt, to make notes on what she would like changed for when she meets with the landscapers next week. Plans noted, she threw the last of her whiskey back, and then stared right into the girls enormous blue eyes. She wondered if she could get the girl to approach her first. </p><p>Ann was transfixed. Anne Lister had been everything to her when she was a teenager. She had been included in a few of Ann's early firsts, the very thought of which made her blush deeply, including being the first woman Ann had ever asked out. She had turned her down flat, saying she was far too old and Ann needed company her own age, not a doddery old lady like her. She was funny. Quick witted. She hadn't been too old then, and she wasn't looking much older now. She looked amazing. And she had just bought Ann a drink. </p><p>Ann realised that Anne's eyes have yet to leave her, that the woman was looking at her with undisguised lust. Ann was barely holding it together now. Anne Lister was looking at her as though she wanted to eat her alive, and Ann was happy just to lay back and let her. All her teenage dreams were coming true. She picked up the cocktail, and began to move across the room towards Miss Lister. She was hoping she was doing it as seductively as possible. And if that wasn't possible, that she wouldn't look so clumsy that Anne Lister would be put off. </p><p>Anne finds that her old jedi mind trick still works. Having stared the girl down, her intentions made crystal clear through their eye contact, she was walking quickly towards her, pushing past anyone who got in her way. She covered a lot of ground very quickly, for someone in such huge heels. Anne was impressed. She hoped she wouldn't need too much small talk, she was keen for both of them to get what they wanted and then get out of there. </p><p>Ann had expected Anne Lister to say something to her, as she approached. Surely, she had bought her the drink because she recognised her? But there was no look of recognition on her face. Just a smirk, smug in the knowledge that she had managed to have a woman in her 20s leave her party to race over to her side, with just the raise of an eyebrow and a drink. Ann smiled. A huge, mega watt smile. And Anne returned it. This was fantastic! Anne Lister didn't know who she was. So that meant she could be anybody. She could be that footballers wife she had seen in the mirror when she went to the toilets earlier. She could be the sort of woman who repeatedly touches women she desires, whilst sitting next to them at the bar, chatting. She could be the sort of woman who would kiss that smirk off of Anne Lister's face once and for all. She could be the sort of woman who would just roll up, kiss her without introduction, and pull her away into the disabled toilets, demanding to be fucked. Right here, right now. </p><p>Ann flushes at the very idea. Good Lord! Is that what she really wanted? She quickly did what her counsellor called a 'temperature check'. How was she feeling? On top of the world! How were her confidence levels? Through the roof! Did she really want to pretend to be someone else, and fuck Anne Lister in a public toilet? Yes. Unequivocally, yes. Well, everything seemed to be ok with that. Now, what would Anne Lister say if she did that? She was inches away from her now. Looking in her eyes, Ann reckoned that she would probably oblige, and make sure Ann knew she should be grateful for it. </p><p>Anne reached out her hand, not to shake hands with the blonde, but to cup her cheek. Anne's fingers meeting the skin just behind the girl's ear first, before the little blonde rested the side of her exquisite face, in the palm of Anne's hand. My God, she was responsive. And so submissive. Anne felt her desire flood through her, she stood down from her stool, with her hands finally finding purchase on the girls hips. She whispered in her ear:</p><p>"Do you know what you have been doing to me?"</p><p>Ann's eyes lit up. Seriously? It was going to be that easy? To finally have what she had wanted for years? </p><p>"Whatever it is, I hope it's the same as what looking at you does to me" Ann was thrilled with her response. She was on fire. She couldn't help smiling.</p><p>Anne drew back, and laughed, her eyes wide, never leaving Ann's. Ann was immediately pressed up against her, Anne's hands flying up from her hips, seeking refuge around her waist. What was that? That feeling under her hands? Was the blonde wearing a corset? Good Lord! Her thoughts were becoming increasingly jumbled. The sexy little blonde was kissing her, rubbing herself against Anne's chest. This was far too much. Noone could take this much pressure. She could feel something explode deep within her, her desire to claim the girl now too great. No going back, and yet they were still standing by the busy bar. The kisses were sloppy, and getting deeper. The lipgloss was flavoured. Apple? No, watermelon. The girl began moaning into her mouth, and it was getting louder. No time to lose, Anne gripped one arm around her waist, and manoeuvred her towards the fire exit. She knew that there was a cleaning cupboard just to the side of the door. She had mistook it for the toilets earlier. It was the furthest away from the revellers in the bar. And this one sounds like she might be noisy. </p><p> </p><p>Elizabeth and Catherine were floored. They sat next to one another, drinking their drinks that Ann's dirty dancing with Catherine had paid for. They had just watched Ann walk straight up to that guy, and start kissing him. Did she even introduce herself? It didn't look like she had had time. Ann had never been so forward with men. Not now, and not ever. </p><p>Elizabeth broke their silence first.</p><p>"I've never seen Ann kiss a bloke before, have you?"</p><p>"No, never".</p><p>"Do you think she knows him" enquired Elizabeth </p><p>"If she didn't, she does now" replies Catherine. </p><p>There was something about him though. Catherine wasn't sure if she didn't know who it was. But Elizabeth had said it was a man, so?</p><p>It was then that a large party of rugby lads roll in, laughing and jostling one another to fit around the bar. Elizabeth looks around. She has lost sight of her sister, and the guy in the black suit has vanished as well.</p><p>"Where did they go?" Elizabeth feels slightly panicked. </p><p>"At a guess, the toilets" said Catherine, carefully. She wasn't sure what Elizabeth's reaction would be to her suggesting that Ann might want to do something like that. Elizabeth looks at her, and says "she's drunk".</p><p>"Not so drunk she doesn't know what she's doing, though? Do you think?"</p><p>"I don't know. Let's go and check the ladies"</p><p>"And the disabled loo" answers Catherine. That one would seem more likely, not that she would know much about such matters.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. You Exquisite Little Tart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anne Lister drags Ann Walker into a cleaning cupboard, and Ann ensures Anne cannot leave.</p>
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    <p>The second that Anne had swung the door open into the broom cupboard, she had had the blonde pinned to the other side of it. The girls hands were already in her hair, dragging her towards her waiting lips. "Dear God, you exquisite little tart" gasped Anne. The girl looked her in the eye, smiled, and launched herself onto Anne's lips. Anne's hands were pressed down into her girls hips, her own hips immediately joining them, pinning her to the door. The girl groaned, thrusting into Anne. This little blonde was wild. Anne rose up a little, the girl whining from the loss. Anne husked into her ear:</p><p>"Let's get this dress off, hmm?" </p><p>Before expertly unzipping it from behind. The girl shrugs it from her shoulders, and stands before her, in the corset that Anne had felt under her hands earlier. It was white, with intricate lace panels, a thin silk rope had been used to tie it at the back. No doubt it would last longer than a ribbon or a lace. The corset gripped her girls ample breasts, and forced them upwards, perfect, warm and round. Anne bent her head down to lick them, and the girl went crazy, bucking her hips into Anne furiously.</p><p>"Your breasts are a work of art, my dear girl"</p><p>Anne hisses into her ear. The blonde responds by mewling, and thrusting her sex into Anne again and again, seeking relief. Anne had wondered if the girl was wearing knickers, but she wasn't too disappointed, not when she saw them. Wide legged silk cami knickers, white and detailed with expensive lace. This girl is dressed in bridal underwear, Anne thought. The idea excited her tremendously. Tonight she would get to fuck a bride, enjoying her plush heavy breasts, her round arse, her tight, extremely wet cunt. This girl is really something else, thought Anne. </p><p>Anne pushes a knee between the girls legs, forcing them open, and with her hands on the girls arse cheeks, she lifts her up a little. Anne stands between the girls legs, opening her core, and then, with the girls lithe tanned legs gripping her around her waist, she slams her hips into the girls core, thrusting at a pace she knows she can keep up for as long as it takes. The blonde was, as she had suspected when kissing her at the bar, very loud. Her constant panting, and then her feral moans, were absolutely delicious. She pressed her hips into her a little harder, and then she released one hand.</p><p>Anne's right hand leaves the girls arse, trails down, and trails back up the inside of her thigh. The girl is squirming again, breathless, bucking into her, endlessly moaning in her ear. It had been a long time since she had such an excitable creature beneath her. Such a eager, responsive girl, who as soon as Anne touched her, was mouth-wateringly wet. Anne's fingers traced a line along her sex, feeling the slip and slide of her fingertips against the blondes sopping folds, her fingers sliding smoothly through, finding her entrance almost immediately. </p><p>The girl was panting in her ear, as she slipped, until she was almost inside of her. As the moment of entry grew closer, the little blonde seemed to still. The quiet before the storm, perhaps? Anne smirked. The first thrust was snatched from her grasp, however. Suddenly the writhing body beneath her began to really struggle. Her mewling becoming something else entirely. </p><p>Ann couldn't believe what was happening. It was all a whirl, one moment she was taking full advantage of the situation, grabbing hold of Anne Lister, and snogging her face off at the bar. Ann was inexperienced, she hadn't ever really been in a position where she wanted to let someone know she was ready, that it was time. So she thought the best thing she could do was to push her hips into Anne, and rub her breasts over hers. Ann could feel Anne's breasts under her own as she pushed into her at the bar, knowing that she had an audience there, and the feeling excited her tremendously. She knew this was it when Anne suddenly pulled away, her eyes raging with lust, and dragged her down a hallway towards the fire exit. She didn't mean to fuck her behind the bins, did she? Part of Ann was thrilled by that idea, but she was glad when Anne pulled her towards a door, and then threw her up against it once inside. </p><p>The kissing that ensued, the grabbing of her behind, pushing her up the door, then levering higher and ramming her harder still against the closed door. Anne's hands gripping her arse, spreading her apart as she did so, grinding her hips into Ann, all of it had the effect of striking a spark off of a flint against dry wood, and that fire was raging in Ann. She was desperate for friction, her clit engorged, her cries going unheard, unheeded, for what seemed an age. </p><p>It was then that Anne moved one hand away from her arse, to trace a line down her outer thigh, and then to trace a slower, more deliberate line back up her inner thigh, all the way up to her wet and ready core. Anne moaned loudly in her ear as her fingers slipped through her folds, wilfully missing her clit, but converging speedily towards her entrance. Ann knew that within seconds, her virginity would be gone, taken by this sweaty, panting, stunning woman. This woman who Ann had fantasised about for years. Whose image Ann had masturbated over as a teenager. How many times had she come with Anne Lister's name on her lips? And now, just as it was about to happen for real, she froze.</p><p>This isn't how she wants to lose her virginity. In a cleaning cupboard, with an overpowering odour of lemon scented floor cleaner. The strange, dank smell of dried floor mops, the air thick with these sickly odours thanks to the lack of ventilation. She has to stop her, but she doesn't know how. She starts to push back, her voice mute, Ann fighting with herself inside, eventually finding her voice again. Initially just a squeak, but finally, it returns. </p><p>Anne is stunned. The girl stops her, just as she is about to enter her. Says this is not right. That, contrary to appearances, she isn't ready yet. Anne backs off. How the hell is this happening? Out of breath, horny as fuck, Anne gently lets the blonde down, allows the girls feet to touch the ground, backs away from her, allows her as much space between them as is possible in such a confined room. </p><p>Anne asks what is wrong. Has she hurt her? In hindsight, she isn't really sure what she has been doing. How hard had she grabbed her? How forceful had she been? It had felt all along like the girl was into this too, but now? The little blonde is crying, her face wet, all she can say is the repeated mantra that this isn't right, this isn't what she wants. Anne hears it loud and clear. Anne Lister isn't what she wants. And so it begins once again. Anne is never enough these days. Something went wrong between her being in her mid 30s, where women still hung on her every word, and dragged her to their beds, and now, in her 40s. Where women remain happy to smile, kiss, touch, but now, all of that comes with a limit. Anne Lister had never known there could be limits when it came to sex, but now, now she is older, the girls she desires always stop her from going too far. And their 'too far' is never far enough for Anne. </p><p>She tries to tilt the girls face towards her. Is there a chance that she might change her mind? No. No it doesn't seem so. She wont make eye contact. She just cries, softly, silently. Anne asks again if she is hurt. She shakes her head no. She asks her if it feels wrong. The girl waves her hands, gesturing around her. Her words start to come, and she tells her that yes, this feels wrong. Straight girls! Ah, Anne? She thinks to herself. When will you ever learn? She smiles a tight lipped smile at the girl, bends to collect her dress from the floor. The moment soured. She steps back, and hands it to her. Her small hands take it, but she doesn't rush to put it back on. To cover herself, as Anne had expected her to. Instead, she continues to look down, her fingers pick at the sequins, her breath gradually steadying. The blonde is standing in front of the only exit. If she wasn't, Anne would have left the room by now. Given her her privacy, and been off. But now, she doesn't really know what to do. She looks at the girl, whose eyes seem mesmerised by her own garment as she picks at her glittering dress, standing still against the door in her corset, her breasts falling out from it at the top, where Anne had grabbed at them. Kissed them. Anne's saliva now drying on her neck, her glittered collarbone, her breasts. The girls arousal drying on the inside of her thighs. Anne's own arousal creating a cool sensation inside her trousers, around her groin. </p><p>Ann is standing in her underwear, and she daren't look up. She can feel anger bristling from Anne Lister, like sparks of electricity. Ann had got her wound up so, had teased her with her practically naked body for hours, before pushing against her, pressing against her. How aroused she must be. Have been. And all for nothing. She wanted to make sure that Anne knew it wasn't her. How could it ever be Anne Lister? It was this situation. If she wasn't a virgin, she would have let Anne carry on, let her reach the furthest extremity. The natural conclusion. God, it had all felt so good. So right. Anne certainly knew what she was doing. How many girls does she drag into cupboards? Loads, Ann doesn't doubt. When she was a kid, Halifax was always rife with stories about Anne Lister's conquests. About how her right hand had seen more action than any of the lads she hung around with put together. Ann remembered hearing her own Father say that he would sooner let a man loose in his house than Anne Lister, having two teen daughters and a younger wife, the danger of allowing this practiced, serial seducer into his home would be too great. So, no surprise that Anne Lister fucks girls she doesn't know in bars. No doubt, after this, she intended to saunter home, see her family and eat her dinner. That fucking Ann was simply vaguely preferable to a wank. All this. All of Ann, long forgotten. Within minutes, she would be a distant memory. </p><p>Something creeps into Ann's head. A simmering thought. She focuses on the shining sequins beneath her hands, as she tries to think. Tries to think of something she can say. Some word, that will still Anne Lister. She can see the woman is uncomfortable now, shuffling a little, desperate to get away from her. If Ann doesn't want sex, Anne Lister is more than happy to go. To leave her. But Ann does want sex. She decides, that this must be it. How will there be another time? What are the chances of her meeting Anne Lister again, of having her desire her like this again? What are the odds of Ann being able to lose her virginity to her, if she turns her away now? Ann decides it really is now or never. She drops her dress to the floor, looks up, and cocks her head when she sees tears in Anne Lister's eyes. Why is she crying? </p><p>Anne is horrified. Just as the tears start to come, the blonde decides it's time to make eye contact. She straightens up, sniffs the emotion back inside, and smiles a fixed, toothless smile. She fiddles with her cufflinks, checking her watch for the time. It's 4.36pm already. If she sets off now, she will be back home for 5pm. Her aunt will be pleased. </p><p>Ann doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know how to make this right. She has no idea why Anne Lister is crying. Ann moves forwards, taking Anne's face in her hands, as she leans in to kiss her. She gently kisses her face. Cheeks, eyelids. Not her lips. She will come back to those, if she is allowed. As she pulls back, Anne takes her hands, looking at them carefully. She flips one hand over, and she kisses her wrist. Ann gasps, the heat is starting to rise again within her. Ann pulls Anne into her, and she lightly kisses Anne's neck. Ann feels, as well as hears, Anne's deep exhale that springs from her chest. The heat quickly building again for her too. Ann's head is spinning. This is the only chance she will ever have to sleep with Anne Lister. She absolutely has to take it. </p><p>Anne isn't sure what the blonde is up to. Kissing her so lightly, so tenderly, and then gasping like that when Anne kissed her hands so very chastely. She runs her hands through the girls stunning, thick blonde hair. It's the longest Anne has seen in a while. The condition of it incredible. So smooth, so glossy. She pulls at the ends lightly as her hands leave it. The girl gasps. She finds herself desperate to feel those curls again, hear those noises again, and she pushes her fingers in close to the girls scalp, finding that the action makes her lol her head, allowing Anne to move her head from one side to the other, opening up her delightful neck. Anne leans in once again, presses one, two, three chaste kisses to the girls throat. As soon as she kisses her the third time, the blonde is on her. Pushing against her, grinding into her. Her mewling starts up again in earnest. The girls tiny hands grabbing at her. Clawing at her neck, digging into her back, pulling at her arms. The girl is pressing herself back into the door, as she raises one knee, attaching it to Anne's side, tiny hands finding Anne's arse. Grabbing it, forcing Anne's hips impossibly closer to the girl's wet and engorged open core.</p><p>Ann finds that the second wave of her arousal is more intoxicating than the first. More powerful, more demanding. She wants Anne to pin her to the door again, the ache between her legs almost hurts. Ann wants Anne inside of her. Her words have failed her, but her actions won't. She lifts her leg, trying to find purchase, desperate to wrap it around Anne. She grabs Anne's firm arse, and pushing her fingers into the cheeks, pulls Anne into her. Anne buries her face in Ann's neck. She nips at her jaw, licks at her pulse, Ann is raging. Her blood is pumping so fast, she can hear it in her head. The effect is dizzying. Ann groans, forgetting herself, panting Anne's name, over and over.</p><p>'I don't know what you want me to do, sweetheart. Tell me what you want me to do' Anne whispers in the blondes ear. What is this girl doing? Grinding into her, after she had already said that being fucked by Anne felt wrong. What does she want? "I know you don't want to. I do respect that" she hushes. </p><p>At this, Ann's whining increases. Her words are evading her, and all that she really knows for sure is that she wants to be fucked. She drags Anne Lister by the back of her head, opening her lips and forcing her tongue into her mouth. Ann mewls at the sensation of Anne being inside her. The vibration of her moan carrying into Anne's mouth. Instantly Anne is on her, and in her. The blonde was so wet, Anne worried she would lose senstation from the lack of friction so she thrust two fingers straight into her. Good lord, the girl was tight. Tighter than she had expected considering how keen she had been. But perhaps the faltering at the start indicated something. The little blonde in wedding lingerie couldn't be a virgin, could she? Surely, no girl wants her first time to be in a broom cupboard with a stranger. Anne tests the water. She whispers about how tight the girl is. This elicits a whimper. She asks how such a wet and willing little thing could be so tight. Could it be that she has been waiting such a long time to be taken? Has she been waiting for today? Ann groans, the noises coming from deep within her throat, thick with desire. Yes, the girl says, I've waited for you. I only want you. Her words, and how weighted with passion they are, spur Anne on. What is this girl doing to her? She wishes they were in a bed. She is desperate to taste her, to have her sit on her face. The image of this girl bent over her desk flashes in to her mind. Anne thrusts into her flesh, harder, faster. Her thumb brushing the girls swollen clit. Anne asks her if she knows how loud she is being. If she knows what filthy acts her moans are making Anne imagine doing to her. At this, she comes, crying out 'I'm yours, I want you' over and over again under her gasping breaths. What a turn around. What an absolute dream this willing little blonde is. So hot, so sexy, so fucking tight. Anne holds her body, holds her splayed arse, presses her to the door, until her legs have recovered their strength, and are once more capable of holding her up.</p><p>Ann is giggling, as she drops to the floor to her knees, her hands at Anne's belt buckle, her fly, dragging her trousers down her legs. Ann kneels before her, her hands pressing Anne's hips firmly to the door, as she noses her boy shorts open a little. No, not enough access. Ann now strips her underwear down now too, takes up her kneeling position once again, hands pressed firmly to Anne's hips, she traces her tongue along Anne's dripping folds, front to back, over and over, moving higher and higher up, pressing further and further into Anne's folds. Ann had had no idea what this would feel like, how Anne would taste. But it's incredible. Anne is so wet, and her arousal is all for Ann. When she had asked her at the bar if Ann knew what she did to her, well, now she can see it, feel it and taste it. </p><p>Anne is floored. The girl has stripped her lower body bare, and is on her hands and knees before her, giving her head. Anne can't recall the last girl to give her head. Well, actually she can, but it's a memory that shouldn't be resurrected at a time like this. This is amazing, thought Anne. Why don't I do this more often? Anne smiles as she gasps, that little blonde had found her clit, and was sucking and licking, licking and sucking, until she knew she was on the brink of a very powerful orgasm. She falls forwards, suddenly feeling weak. The power in her returns. The shock of her impending release throws her head back into the door, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, she let's rip a tremendous, thundering moan, and she comes. Hard. Right into the blondes mouth.</p><p>Ann could feel her clit become increasingly engorged, her tongue massaging it, then flicking it, then, between her, now swollen, lips suckling on it. Anne's hands were tight in her hair, holding her in place, thrusting into her mouth, and making the sorts of noises that meant only one thing. She was coming, and Ann had to brace herself. Anne had been soaked earlier, as she began to go down on her. But that was nothing compared to the wetness that greeted Ann now. Anne Lister came hard, her hands tearing through Ann's hair, her whole body vibrating, heart pounding, panting, grunting and groaning in such a delectably filthy way. Her legs unsteady, torso keening forwards before her head was thrown back at the door. Ann felt strangely powerful, to have had such control over this woman's body. Not just any woman in a bar. But Anne Lister. Ann swallows the cum as it pours into her mouth, then she laps hungrily at Anne's spent cunt, her thighs, before looking up at her, smiling. Anne Lister's cum all over her lips and chin. </p><p>Ann starts to stand. As she does so, she brings Anne's underwear up with her, then she kneels again and pulls her trousers up too. Anne just stands there, sweat coating her forehead and top lip, eyes glazed, panting softly, allowing Ann to dress her. Her shirt smoothed down front and back, and tucked in. Her fly fastened. Belt buckled. </p><p>Anne was still catching her breath as Ann ran her hands over her stomach, marvelling as how hard and flat it was. Feeling the strength under her hands. The ripples of her abs. Ann was glad that she had waited. It wasn't on purpose. Not really. She never imagined Anne Lister would ever actually want her like this. But as no one else had measured up, she just didn't see the point in losing her virginity if she didn't feel a desperate urge to. Ideally, it wouldn't have been in this broom cupboard with this bar fly version of Anne Lister, who hadn't even asked her name, or given Ann hers. But ultimately, if this was her only opportunity of being fucked by the woman, she knew she had no choice but to take it. </p><p>Ann stands up, tips her face up to Anne Lister's, and kisses her. Anne's hands were suddenly awakened, and found their way around her waist, up her back, her powerful arms pulling Ann in to an all consuming hug. She feels featherlight kisses along her ear, her neck, then Anne Lister's nose tracing over where she had just kissed her. Anne finally has the strength to speak.</p><p>"What have you done to me, you delectable little creature? You've bought me to my knees"</p><p>"No, it was you who bought me to mine. You were magnificent" replies Ann, wiping her chin, whilst keeping eye contact. </p><p>Anne's eyes widen at this compliment, the glaze wearing away enough for her eyes to flash with desire, briefly, once again. Ann giggles quietly, stroking Anne's cheek, her jaw, before burrowing back into her arms for a hug. The two of them, just standing there. Clinging on to one another, in a broom cupboard. For how long? Neither could really say. Ann pulled back first. She traced her nose along Anne's cheek, before lightly pushing Anne away. Ann tilts her chin, gazing up into Anne's eyes. She smiles, and says "It would seem we are well matched".</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Reprise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And now it's time to leave the cleaning cupboard!</p><p>Thank you so much if you have left a comment. They mean a lot!</p>
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    <p>Elizabeth is frantic. Ann isn't in the ladies toilets, she isn't in the disabled loo, or in the gents. She isn't outside in the smoking area, not that she smokes. She isn't out front, where a few people are hanging around, waiting for friends. How many times do you hear of girls out with their friends, and then the next thing some creepy stalker type just picks them up and convinces them to leave without saying goodbye. Or even drugs them. She looks across at Catherine, and is pretty narked to see she doesn't appear to be taking this as seriously. </p><p>"Get your phone out, Catherine! Call the police, whilst I speak with the bar manager"</p><p>Catherine puts her hand out, a gesture meant to calm Elizabeth, soothe her. It half works. </p><p>"Elizabeth, let's speak to the bar staff first. Then we will have a quick lap around the bar, and if she hasn't surfaced, then we will call the police"</p><p>"Where has he taken her though? And why did she go with him without saying anything?"</p><p>"Well, we don't know yet, do we. But we will find out" at the back of Catherine's mind, she is 95% convinced the *man* Elizabeth saw, at a distance, whilst drunk, wasn't a man at all. Catherine is almost certain it was Anne Lister, and if it was, well. Ann would have followed her absolutely anywhere. </p><p>Catherine had thought that it was Anne Lister having lunch with Eliza Priestley, when they first showed up. She had just caught the profile of the dark haired woman, and had thought it looked like Anne, but wearing black suit and dress shirt for Saturday brunch? That pretty much had given her away. Who else do they know who wears a black suit every day, for any occasion? She didn't say anything at the time though, as she didn't want to upset Ann unnecessarily, and she had been so keen to avoid Eliza, she hadn't spotted Anne. </p><p>Anne Lister had loomed large in Ann's teenage years. She really was fixated with her. She had even found some courage from somewhere, and asked her out once. She had been turned down too, but in a kind way. Anne Lister was anything but cruel. She was just a bit too different for Halifax, and the fact she was a posh, rich, intellectual, who lived in an ancient pile with "grounds', and didn't give a toss who knew she was gay, well that didn't help either. She stood out, and it was this that Ann seemed to appreciate about her the most. That, and well, she was probably the only other real life lesbian that Ann had met before she went to uni. Ann's crush had gone on for a lot of years, and Catherine would not be at all surprised if she would have leapt at the chance to go for a walk outside, or on to another bar with her, if Anne had asked her to. </p><p>Elizabeth is getting fidgety at the bar. The manager is busy serving one member of a large group of lads who all seem to want a different drink. And then tequila shots. And some crisps. Catherine catches the eye of one of the waiting staff, now serving behind the bar. When the waitress came over, Elizabeth went straight into panic mode, her worries about her younger sister tumbling out in a incoherent stream of consciousness. The waitress had seen her sister earlier yes, when she was dancing with Catherine. But no, she doesn't remember a man. Then something clicks, and she says that there was a woman here. Black suit, tall and slim, dark hair. She had been here for a few hours, drank whiskey. But she never saw Ann with her. Never saw her leave, either. Elizabeth looks at Catherine. </p><p>"You saw who I mean, didnt you? That bloke? Who bought us drinks? You can describe him, can't you, Catherine?"</p><p>The bar manager, now available, comes over. Elizabeth can't get her question out fast enough, as he approaches.</p><p>"The man who bought us drinks, you served him? My sister's vanished. We've looked everywhere, and she has gone. And so has he!"</p><p>"It was a woman who bought you drinks" he said.</p><p>The penny is starting to drop. Elizabeth looks at Catherine.</p><p>"Did you think that was Anne Lister?"</p><p>Catherine is about to reply, when the waitress says "Her from Shibden Hall? Yeah, it was".</p><p>"And your sister was all over her, properly going for it" adds the bar manager with a snigger. "Not being funny, but have you checked the toilets?"</p><p>Elizabeth is fuming at his suggestion. How dare he think her sister would do something like that?</p><p>"Yeah, we have. All three of them"</p><p> </p><p>Anne had been leaning against the door of the broom cupboard for what? Five minutes? Eight? Simply leaning against the door, cradling the little blonde who had melted into her arms. Her hands stroke the girls back, her arms, before settling for a while on her bottom, then her waist. The blonde's hands stroke her chest, her abs, her jaw. She hadn't felt so content just being with a woman for a long time. She absolutely never allows the girls she sleeps with to touch her in return. Yet she didn't even try to stop this girl from going down on her. She hadn't wanted to stop her, that was the strangest thing. She hadn't wanted something, or someone, so much in a long time. But, like all good things in life, it couldn't last. They need to get out of the cupboard, preferably unseen, and back to their separate realities. She needs to get back home, sharpish. What time was it now? Anne cannot check as she doesn't really want to disturb the girl in her arms, but it must be getting on. </p><p>Ann is sobering up fast. She can't believe what has happened. She was no longer a virgin. Just thinking about that makes Ann feel strangely elated. As though she has achieved something. A milestone. And now she's standing in a broom cupboard, in her bridal lingerie, being held very tightly by Anne Lister. Anne hadn't just thanked her and left as soon as she had had what she wanted from her, which is what Ann had worried might happen. She had wrapped her arms around her, and held her so close, she felt as though she would be absorbed by her. Ann smiles, snuggling nearer still. Anne smells amazing. Like church incense and whiskey. Ann could bury her head in her neck forever. Ann's hands are in constant motion, stroking and pawing at Anne. She is fascinated by how toned Anne is. Her arms are impressive, and her stomach is rock hard. That said, for someone with such defined muscles, she was also surprisingly soft. Ann runs her hands over Anne's arms, her abs, her neck, her face. Ann looks up, as Anne leans her head back against the door, eyes closed. She looks peaceful. Sated. Ann really, really wishes they were in a bed. She wonders if that is something that might happen. Eventually. Anne still hasn't said what her name is, however. And she hasn't asked for hers either. So, probably not. </p><p>Anne opens her eyes. It really must to be time to leave, but she doesn't want to let go of the girl. They could hardly stay in this cupboard forever. She squeezes the blonde, and as she looks at her, she smiles. </p><p>"We shall have to get out of here at some point, you know"</p><p>"I know. It's a shame" replies Ann, pulling Anne's head towards her, capturing her lips. The kiss is light at first. But then Ann grabs the back of her head, her fingers entangled in her hair, and pulling her closer still, the kiss becoming deeper, more passionate. Ann began to moan into Anne's mouth, Anne turns them, pinning Ann once again to the door, her hands running over Ann's breasts, her waist, her bottom. Ann pulling Anne ever closer with her hands, her arms, whilst bucking her hips into her lover, encouraging her to press on. </p><p>Anne bends to kiss the girls breasts. Relishing the feel of those little hands clawing at her shoulders once again, she can feel her urgency in her low murmurs, and higher pitched squeals. Anne seriously could lose herself in this girl. But she needs to get it together. She has to leave. </p><p>Ann is amazed that Anne is kissing her once again, pressing her against the door, that she still desires her. Ann wishes that this could be every day. Not amongst the mops, but in her bedroom. Every sweep of her lips drives shivers down Ann's spine. Every time Anne strokes her, licks her, kisses her, her body vibrates. She had no idea it would feel like this, she had always tried not to think too much about sex, but now it's all she can think about. She feels Anne's hand travelling between her thighs, stroking lightly up her legs, until her hand reaches Ann's core. Ann finds that she just can't stay quiet. Her early murmurs were building to moans, with Anne panting in her ear as she licked her lobe. Her elegant fingers make light work of Ann's folds, finding her entrance almost immediately, slowly circling her. Anne's teeth scrape down her throat, down to her collarbone. The effect on Ann is sensory overload, every nerve ending in Ann's body tingles, bolts of lightening fork through her core, every inch of her desperate for Anne's touch. </p><p>Anne enters her again, pressing into her gorgeous, mewling girl. She is deliciously wet, and the sounds that emanate from her drive straight to Anne's clit. She can't believe how hot this blonde is, how much the girl wants her, and how much of her she is ready to take. Licking her neck, she smells incredible, like warm vanilla. Anne wishes they were on a bed, or at least somewhere more comfortable than this mouldy old cupboard. She really would like to take her time with this girl. The way she has her panting for her makes Anne wonder just what else she might be able to tease out of her. And to see what the girl might be able to tease out of Anne. What else might she crave to do for the little blonde? What lengths might she be prepared to go?</p><p>Ann is trying hard not to come. She wants this feeling to last forever. She wants Anne inside her forever. She can't believe how this woman is making her feel, how easily she can create this desperation in Ann. Anne begins to kiss her lips, tenderly, deeply. She opens her mouth to allow Anne inside. She can hear the utterly filthy wet slapping sound, as Anne drives three fingers inside her. Ann forgets to hold back, and her orgasm hits her like a wave. Gasping, breathless, flushed from head to toe. </p><p>The girls walls clamp down hard on Anne's fingers, squeezing them in ripples. She cries out, and as the volume increases, Anne clasps her mouth over hers. Ann's moans pulsate from deep within her, and into her lovers mouth. Anne is devouring her. </p><p>She just wants to cling to her. To hold on to this. She wants Anne to ask her her name. To ask for her phone number. But Anne pulls out, and then pulls away, straightens her shirt, her jacket which she had never needed to remove, smiles at Ann in a surprisingly coqetish way, and simply gestures for Ann to get dressed too, holding out her sequined dress that now looks quite tired. </p><p>"Well, that was an experience!" Anne exclaims, shaking her head, half laughing. "You really are quite something"</p><p>Ann has to be near her again. She pulls her collars, drawing Anne's lips back to hers.</p><p>"You are incredible. When I saw you at the bar, I knew you would be. You're so bloody sexy" purrs Ann</p><p>Anne looks deep into her eyes, smiles, and turns away. Her confidence is soaring in the presence of her little blonde. The things the girl does. The things she says. Just delightful. She won't give her her number, though. She couldn't bear it when the girl failed to call her. She will take hers, if she offers it. She isn't sure if she wants her to.</p><p>Ann is back in her dress, back on her heels, checking her make up, reapplying her lipgloss. Fluffing her hair a little, smoothing it down at the back when it's become tangled. She's ready to leave, but she knows she won't ever feel ready to leave Anne. </p><p>"Ok, so I shall check outside, and I will go out first. Give it a few minutes, and then you leave. That way, it won't look weird"</p><p>"Ok" replies Ann, deflated. It really is over. </p><p>Anne smiles at her, and opens the door. The evening is really starting out there now. The music is booming now, and it sounds as though the bar is packed. She peeks outside, and slips away.</p><p>Ann is alone. The moisture between her legs is cold now. She wants to go to the loo, find her sister and cousin, and go home. God, Elizabeth and Catherine! What will they be thinking? How long has she been gone??? She had forgotten all about them, but now she is worried. She just doesn't know what she will say to them, and they will demand an explanation. Oh, what has she done? No matter how she dresses this up, she isn't going to come out of this looking good. Anne didn't ask for her number. She still didn't know her name. Ann goes to the door, and peeks out. The bar is really busy, and so she slinks away from the cupboard without anyone seeing where she had emerged from. </p><p>Elizabeth spotted her after she had already left the bar. She had just turned to look out of the window, when she saw Anne Lister striding past at speed. Well, that's interesting, thought Elizabeth.</p><p>With the thought fresh in her head, Catherine suddenly shouts "Ann", and her little sister appears from nowhere in front of her. </p><p>"We were worried sick!" Shouts Elizabeth. "But it turns out you found someone more interesting to talk to, hmm?"</p><p>"What?" Replies Ann, as vague as she can muster. </p><p>"Anne Lister?"</p><p>Hearing the name, Ann's eyes suddenly fill with tears. </p><p>"Elizabeth, can we get a taxi? Go home?"</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Overcome by the Sensation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ann goes through a lot of emotions, without talking them through with anyone.</p><p>Thanks for all your support so far! Comment away!</p>
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    <p>Ann cuddled into Elizabeth in the back of the taxi, tears streaming down her face, chest heaving as she cried. Elizabeth and Catherine had asked her repeatedly what was wrong, what Anne Lister had said to her that had upset her so much, but Ann just couldn't speak. She couldn't find the right words to explain just why she was so upset, because she didn't want to let too much slip. She seriously did not want Elizabeth and Catherine to know what she had allowed Anne Lister to do to her. 

Yet, when she thought about it clearly, it was Ann who had spontaneously grabbed hold of Anne's head, hands in her hair, dragging her to her lips. It was Ann who had bucked into her hips, in an attempt to make Anne move faster. So no, *allowed* wasn't the right word for it. </p><p>Encouraged. Now, that was a better word. She was upset, because of what she had *encouraged* Anne Lister to do to her. That was closer to the mark. What had felt wild and free an hour ago, pretending to be a different woman with a very different moral code, felt degrading now. She wasn't a different woman. She was Ann Walker, and now she just felt utterly disgusted with herself, and ashamed. What they had done, in particular what she had done, in that cupboard was disgraceful. Now she just felt dirty, and wrong. What sort of woman behaves like that? A drunk one, with no self control. She was no better than the beasts of the field.</p><p>But, oh! How Anne Lister had made her feel, and how gently she had held her afterwards. How tenderly she had kissed her. Ann had always loved Anne Lister. And for half an hour this afternoon, she could almost believe that Anne loved her in return. But she didn't. She never even kissed her goodbye. A smile at the door, and she was off. </p><p>"I wish you would tell me what she said to you" Elizabeth whispered, wishing she had never let Ann out of her sight. What an end to what had been a surprisingly fun day, considering the circumstances. </p><p>"Honestly, whatever she's said, you can tell us" Catherine soothed, reaching over to touch Ann's arm. "Seriously though Elizabeth, I feel ready to go straight around to her aunts, and give her what for" she added through her teeth. </p><p>"Let's just get her home, and see what happens. But yeah, I am so up for that! She needs telling. No wonder she shot out of that door like a bullet. She probably thought we would have a go at her there and then"</p><p>"It's not like that" whispered Ann, so quietly, her sister wasn't certain she had spoken at all. "It's me. I'm disappointed with myself"</p><p>"Why, though? Something must have happened"</p><p>"Nothing happened, Elizabeth" Ann hissed. "I'm just upset. You know what today ought to have been. I'm just upset"</p><p>Ann felt a pang of guilt, for invoking her wedding as the excuse for her tears. But no one, not ever, could find out what had happened today. Anne Lister doesn't live here anymore, she must have simply been visiting. She won't see her again, will she? She needs to try to forget all of this, and pull herself together. She pulls a tissue out of her handbag, wipes under her eyes to not disturb the false eyelashes, and tries to sit up a bit straighter. She looks at Elizabeth, and offers her a smile. </p><p>"Just being silly, that's all" Ann says, rubbing her face. She wants this conversation to be over now, so that the forgetting can commence.</p><p>Back home, Ann was kept busy by sorting out coffees for herself, Elizabeth and Catherine. Her sister and cousin watched her like hawks, before looking at one another.</p><p>"Something happened. Something was said" said Elizabeth, quietly </p><p>"Well, something definitely happened because" and at this, Catherine leans in to whisper "we saw Ann kissing her!"</p><p>"Perhaps it was that that upset her? Or perhaps Anne Lister turned her down again. She is very fragile at the moment. That would have been hard for her"</p><p>"Why would Anne Lister turn her down? She was the one who wanted to buy her a drink, wasn't she?" Said Catherine.</p><p>Elizabeth sat back, thinking. Something had definitely gone off. But tonight was probably not the time to try to get Ann to tell her. </p><p>Ann carried their drinks in, and sat in her chair nearest the window. The girls settled down with their coffee, and tried to ignore the headaches that were beginning to descend on each of them. Ann was quietly surprised that both Elizabeth and Catherine were able to watch TV all night with her, and never mention her upset earlier again.</p><p> </p><p>That night, after Ann closed her bedroom door, and took her clothes off, she stood in front of her mirror again. This time, in just the corset and knickers. She took a good look at herself. The corset still looked good. It made her breasts look incredible. She ran her fingers across the top of the corset. Her large, pillowy breasts rippled beneath her fingertips, chased by goosebumps. She was reminded of how Anne had kissed her there, licked her, she thought about how Anne's hands had plunged down her corset, massaging her breasts. The knickers were creased from how she had been sitting, especially how she had been sitting whilst they were still wet. They barely covered her sex now. The fact that she had been continuously wet for a good 30 minutes today was showing around the crotch. </p><p>She laid on her bed, and she pulled the quilt tight around her, then she traced her fingers along her leg, her groin where the fabric was almost creased into pleats. She started to move towards her sex, tentatively stroking herself, and feeling disappointed that she could not do for herself what Anne Lister could do to her. </p><p>She had lost her virginity. That was something to remember. And she had loved everything Anne had done with her. She especially loved what she had done for Anne. She had seen a clip online years ago of a woman going down on another woman, and she had always wanted to try that with someone herself. Now that she had, she couldn't understand why she had waited so long. </p><p>As she stroked through her folds, attempting to mimick where Anne had gone earlier, she thought about pulling Anne's trousers down, her pants, and then, oh how Anne had moaned from the first touch of her tongue. And from that first moan, oh God! How she moaned, her hands in her hair, oh, how Anne had pulled at her hair. Ann felt her climax building, she recalled how her lover had tasted, and that coupled with the memory of her ripping at Ann's hair was enough to send her over the edge.</p><p>Ann, overcome by the sensation, came for the third time that day. But this time by her own hand. </p><p>She thought about her wobble earlier in the bar. And how she had cried in the taxi coming home. She had felt so disgusted with herself, but it wasn't that sex was disgusting. She was really just annoyed with herself for letting it get so far in a broom cupboard. And for losing her virginity there, to a woman who hadn't asked her name. It reminds Ann of what her counsellor calls her 'people pleasing nature'. It reminds Ann, yet again, that she just doesn't have enough self respect. She will have to go over this when she sees her counsellor again. She will have to tell them the truth of what happened today too. At least she has someone to tell, she thinks, as she raises up to remove the corset, stands up so that she can remove her silk knickers. She puts on her night shirt, and nestles back under the quilt.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. A Conquest, but not one to share with Tib</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Well! I didn't think I would get this section sorted quick enough, but here it is! </p><p>Anne needs to get her life sorted out. She's far too old to behave like this.</p>
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    <p>Anne couldn't get out of the bar fast enough. She had checked her watch, and it was almost 5pm. It was getting late for her to do all the stuff with her aunt she had promised to do, and she really didn't like letting her aunt down. </p><p>She flew down Northgate, and began the march up Old Bank. It was impossible to fly up there. The older she got the harder it was to get to the top, and not be out of breath. </p><p>But today, she had wings! Good heavens, what a girl! When she first saw her, she wanted her. And that's all well and good. But how many times does that want end up with the object of your desire giving you head in a cupboard? And the bridal underwear! Who knows what that was all about, but Anne had never realised how sexy all that white lace could be, especially when worn by a girl who loved to be fucked. Not to mention the delicious sounds the little blonde made when she was deep inside of her. She had been so responsive. She was exquisite. The perfect plaything, a nubile little sex machine. All bouncing breasts, false eyelashes, bright blue eyes, big blonde hair, constantly wet, and incredibly tight. The whole thing was just fabulous. Fabulously filthy. She couldn't wait to tell Tib all about it, she would love it. It was then that Anne realised she had never asked the girl her name. </p><p> </p><p>Her aunt wasn't overly surprised that Anne was so late back. She hadn't been back to Halifax in almost five years, and will have had a lot of catching up to do, alot of people to see. But now she was here, she could help plan out the flower beds. Ann needed to dig them out for her, and then help her plant a couple of rose bushes, a couple of shrubs, and several trays of bedding plants. If they planned it out today before dinner, Anne would be able to get it started first thing. </p><p> </p><p>As Anne crouched on the grass, measuring a metre across, to make sure the spacing was even both sides, her mind wandered to the blonde girl, whose perfectly pale, softly round body had melted into her embrace. Yeah, the sex had been wild, but there was something else. Something behind it. Anne decided that she wasn't going to share this conquest with Tib. But she was going to visit elderly Mrs Rawson at some point in the next day or two. She hadn't seen her in a long time, and she had long been a favourite of the brash old girl. Anne was 95% certain that the brunette the little blonde was with was one of Mrs Rawson's granddaughters, of which she had many. </p><p>She would go and ask after them all. She knew that the photos would start flowing, and then she would see if she recognised her among them. If she was right, perhaps she might get to see the girl again? Anne pushed the idea from her mind. She needed to focus on rebuilding her life back in England. Back in Halifax. She really didn't need get side tracked by daliances with pretty girls that never went anywhere. </p><p>Anne needed to get serious. She was 41, and it was time to stop behaving like some horny 20 year old, chasing skirt. She needed to learn to live on her own, or find a more serious minded sort of woman for a life partner. She would still go round Mrs Rawson's though. She could do with having a laugh, and the old dear was hilarious. </p><p>She was just getting back to her task in hand, when her aunt shouted to her from the window. Eliza Priestley was on the phone.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. “And she still adores you, Anne”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's Sunday morning! What are our girls up to???</p><p>Thanks for all your comments!!! Keep them coming - they mean the world!</p>
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    <p>Sunday morning, Anne’s alarm shook her awake at 6am. She really could do with more sleep. Turns out that she had drunk one too many whiskeys, after all. The memory of sitting at that bar in town, watching that girl dance, watching her friend’s hand on her hip, wishing it were her own. Sometimes, the best part of the chase is all in the first look, but that certainly wasn’t the case yesterday. She smiles. If she has a smattering of a hangover, it was worth it. </p><p>She dresses in combat trousers and a tight black t-shirt. Gardening doesn’t require an outfit for the catwalk, she thinks. But she still wouldn’t like to look untidy. </p><p>Outside for 6.37am, and she is quickly settled into digging out the beds that Aunt Anne has requested. Anne loves gardening, loves all out door work. She has missed this. Being awake before everyone else, outdoors first thing where the only sounds are the ones you make yourself. Or the occasional birdsong. She has missed Shibden, and now she is back, she can’t decide if she never wants to leave here again, or if she simply wants to run for the hills. She thinks about Eliza Priestley calling the night before. Determined that she should visit Ann Walker in the week with her. But Anne cannot see the point. If the girl is in mourning, why would she want to see someone who is practically a stranger? Eliza has some queer notions at times. Anne had managed to put her off. And she will continue to do so, should the matter be raised again.</p><p>Just three weeks ago, she was nearing the end of her relationship with Vere, and she hardly knew it. They had met in Paris two years ago. She had gone on one of the specialist mountaineering holidays that Anne arranged for high class travellers. Vere had booked with a few friends, and they had hit it off immediately. Vere was 27, and the daughter of a Tory MP and an aging society IT girl. She had attended Marlborough, and had incredible connections that Anne would die for. Vere hadn’t wanted others to necessarily know the true nature of their ‘friendship’, but it certainly appeared that most of her circle both knew, and did not care. Her friends and family were fascinating. Intelligent and well-travelled. An hour at one of her aunt’s dinner parties was exhilarating. A whirlwind of minor royalty, politicians and intellectuals. </p><p>Vere herself was adorable. She had helped Anne smooth out some of her rougher edges, gently pointing out any errors in etiquette. Anne was grateful. She wanted to know everything about their world, and was keen to remain a part of it. Vere wanted to move out from her family home, and was obsessed with Brighton. They found a flat on the seafront, and created a home together. Anne had honestly thought that leaving her work in France and moving to a southern seaside resort with Vere was the answer. That she and Vere would remain together forever. But, within weeks, Vere decided that she wasn’t gay after all. That it was all just a passing fancy. But still, she had managed to leave her parents’ house, thanks to Anne paying her rent.  </p><p>The memory leaves a very bitter taste in Anne’s mouth. She is tired of trying with women. Her better nature has been tested a great many times over the years, by a great many women and girls. She hasn’t been single since she was 12 years old, and yet she still lives alone. But for half an hour yesterday afternoon, she had forgotten all of that. She smiles softly, thinking of that delightful girl again. </p><p> </p><p>Once the five beds had been dug, she started to arrange the shrubs and roses, and then peppered the bedding plants between them. The time was now 10.43am. Aunt Anne emerges with a large mug of tea, and a towel. Anne mops herself a little, drinks her tea, and sits on the grass, with her aunt sitting on the bench nearby. Aunt Anne is thrilled with the beds, and her pleasure in seeing the plants arranged as she had wanted makes Anne feel incredibly happy. Aunt Anne has always been keen for Anne to marry, she wants to see her settled, but has never attempted to match make. Which is why Anne is surprised when Ann Walker is bought up. Aunt Ann had been over to see her a few weeks ago, after the poor boy had died. Tragic really, but then the girl has suffered a lot of loss. Anne is bored by the conversation already, until her aunt suggests Anne go over to see the young woman herself. Why on earth would she? Because the girl is lonely, and rich, and pleasant company.</p><p>“And she still adores you, Anne” her aunt adds. </p><p>“As she adored her fiancé?” Anne asks. “I’m not sure we play for the same team” she jokes.</p><p>“I got the impression that she only wanted to marry that young man to get away from all those nosey aunts and cousins” replies her aunt. “The only subject of conversation she had when I was there was you. She wanted to know all about where you had been, what you had been doing. She would be thrilled to see you. You should go along with Eliza. Call her back now, and say you will go!”</p><p>“I really don’t think that Ann Walker is my type” states Anne calmly. “She was always an odd little thing. And she followed me about like a puppy. I wouldn’t want to get into all that again”</p><p>“She isn’t a teenager anymore. But perhaps you are right. You should pick the sort of women you like. I would just like to see you settled, that’s all”</p><p>“I know. And I do appreciate it. I actually met a rather interesting young woman briefly when I was out in town yesterday. I think she was a friend of one of the Rawson girls”</p><p>“So you found a lot to talk about then, did you? If you only think she was friends with one of the Rawson’s?” Aunt Anne, said almost knowingly. She knows exactly what her niece is like. “Perhaps if you spent more time getting to know them, you know? By talking to them…” Aunt Anne adds. Anne blushes furiously.</p><p>Anne heads to the shower, and then dresses for the day in black trousers and a dress shirt. She gets settled at her desk. First things first, she emails Tib. She almost mentioned the blonde, but decided against it. Surely at her age she shouldn’t want to run to tell her oldest friend and wing man about such things? Anne is determined that she is going to age gracefully, and part of this is resisting Tib’s attempts to live vicariously through her sex life. Over the years, Tib spends more and more time at home, and the old party animal has developed a bit of a thick waistline, and a slight drink problem. Anne once wondered if she should marry Tib, but she is glad now that she didn’t. Tib just isn’t genteel enough, demure enough. Feminine enough. But, she is still great fun and completely charming when sober. </p><p>She had rung Tib when Vere had announced her intention to return to London with some chap she had met through her father’s aide. Anne had been devastated, and only Tib could really appreciate exactly how much she had been hurt. How hard it was to maintain long term relationships with the pretty, flighty girls that they both favoured. By the time she was back at Shibden, her sister Marian had crept out of the woodwork, and was throwing her weight around about how flighty Anne was herself. She decided to add that to the email. Her musings about the cold comfort that she was guaranteed whenever she rolled back up to Shibden. It had been some years since Tib last visited Shibden, on account of one evening years back where she had told quite a long, winding and utterly filthy story to Aunt Anne over dinner, with her father and uncle still in the room. They had all been horrified, and so from that time on, Anne has always visited her instead. She shall have to get up to York again soon, and see how the old sod was doing.</p><p>Next, she wanted to complete her diary entry for yesterday. Anne has kept a diary since boarding school. It served as a record of her friendships and lovers, her climbing achievements, her business successes and failures. It also served as a soundboard for her inmost thoughts. She would be horrified to imagine someone else reading some of the things she writes about, but she had thought of that years ago when she was still at school. Her first girlfriend wanted them to develop a code that they could use to write one another love notes, after one such note had been discovered by a teacher, and her father had been called in to the school for a ‘chat’. A chat that outed Anne to her family, before she was able to come out to them herself, in her own time. After that, she lost all respect for the staff in that school. She became objectionable and awkward, until eventually she was expelled. But, the experience had created a code that has suited her ever since. </p><p>She wrote about Eliza Priestley, and her fixation with visiting Ann Walker. She wrote about the lunch they had, and that she might order the same steak there again. She wrote about seeing the girl, and how looking at her had made her feel, and how she had sent a drink over for the group she was in, and how she had got the girl to come over to chat. And how the girl had pressed against her, how deep her kisses were standing there at a busy bar on a Saturday, that girl had kissed her passionately without any shame or self-consciousness. It was delicious. Anne couldn’t remember a girl ever doing that to her in a bar in Halifax, or in a bar in any small town. So that was new. And then how eager she was in the broom cupboard, how she was a little shy at first, unsure, but then she had propelled herself onto Anne. Anne didn’t mind telling the diary how much she had wanted her to go down on her. She wouldn’t even consider admitting that to Tib. She wrote that she regretted not asking the girl for her phone number. She would really like to see her again. </p><p>Ann was terribly sick on Sunday morning. All the alcohol she had consumed on Saturday finally wanted to get its own back. Elizabeth padded about outside the bathroom, asking Ann if she wanted a glass of water? A blanket? Anything? Yes, no, and no. </p><p>When she went downstairs, Catherine and Elizabeth started to chat about the day before. About how much fun they had had at the bar. Even if Ann was paying for it now, she had had a good time hadn’t she? The image of kneeling in front of Anne Lister, looking into her eyes, reaching up to undo her fly flashed into her head. Her mouth went dry. Yeah, yeah she had fun. So what had gone wrong at the end? Nothing, she was just drunk and emotional. Hmm. And what about Anne Lister? Ann thought about Anne Lister pushing inside her, her teeth dragging along her neck. She had never felt so alive. She flinched. As she thought about it, she could almost feel Anne in her, on her, again. Yeah, she was fine. They had chatted. That was it. </p><p>Her sister and cousin look at one another. And Ann kissing her at the bar? Ann looked Elizabeth in the eye. Yes, she had kissed her. As a greeting. Catherine smirks, and Elizabeth looks down. Both then started to snigger. Ann looks at them, embarrassed, and joins in the laughter. </p><p>“How did the barman describe it?” Elizabeth asks Catherine, still laughing. </p><p>“I do believe his exact words were that you were ‘properly going for it’” Catherine says.</p><p>“Ah, what a delightful turn of phrase!” laughs Elizabeth. “And you were as well. We could see you from where we were sitting!” </p><p>“Oh” is all Ann can think to say. </p><p>“So, do you want to change your story about a kiss hello, and a little chat?” </p><p>“Hmm. Well, yeah. I did kiss her. And we did chat for a while. But that was that. I won’t be seeing her again”</p><p>“Yeah, you will” Catherine says confidently. “She is back here permanently now. My grandmother heard from her a few days ago. She’s here to help her aunt with the estate cottages they rent out.”</p><p>“Oh” replies Ann.</p><p>“And you were with her for ages, and she never mentioned that? I can’t think what might have distracted her” chides Elizabeth. </p><p>Ann isn’t really joining in with the ribbing, though. She just feels desperately ashamed of herself. </p><p>“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth sees tears start to form in her little sisters eyes. </p><p>“Nothing. I’m just going back to my room for something” and Ann sprung out of her seat, and out of the room.</p><p>“She’s just so vulnerable right now. You will keep a close eye on her when I go back to Scotland, won’t you Catherine?”</p><p>“Of course I will. Should one of us go up?”</p><p>“No. Give her some space, I think?”</p><p>“Yeah” and the cousins drank their tea watching Sunday morning TV.</p><p>Upstairs, Ann sits in front of her dressing table mirror, and takes a good look at herself. She feels awful about what happened with Miss Lister yesterday, and yet when she actually thinks about individual moments, she has never felt so incredible in all her life. She just can’t work out how she feels, all she knows is that she feels dreadful. She picks up her phone, and texts her counsellor. Asks if they have any emergency appointments tomorrow? Any cancellations?</p><p> </p><p>Aunt Anne is showing Anne the new laundry room that she has created in the middle of the Shibden estate, in a small single storey new build. Anne is impressed. The grounds of their home spread out across the top of the town, with 14 tenant cottages dotted across. These they rent out to walkers, small school groups and families. It’s been a profitable business for over 20 years, and now Aunt Anne feels it’s time to hand the reins over to her niece. Anne is shocked by the state of some of the properties, though. She got quite angry with Aunt Anne for letting them fall into disrepair, but she bit her tongue. It’s not Aunt Anne’s fault. It’s hers. And Marian’s! She is here all of the time, so how has she missed this? Anne says that in the week, she will go around each property to compile a snagging list. Work must start sooner rather than later, by the look of things. </p><p>“I intend to walk into town in the morning. Go to the library” Anne mentions to her aunt. </p><p>"Oh? What is it that you are looking for?” </p><p>“I don’t know. I might just have a look in the reference library” </p><p>“Well, you could drop in at the archives, and ask to see the old documents they have for Shibden. I know they have about a dozen ledgers from the Victorian era. The house had been passed down to a Welsh doctor, a dim and distant relative. Those archives contain the history of, well us and this house. It’s all in those ledgers and letters.”</p><p>Anne had had no idea. It sounded intriguing, a little pet project to keep her mind occupied. Anne always needed a variety of things to occupy her time. She liked to be busy, but always with purpose. Anne’s purpose here, she quickly decides, is to find some unique selling point through their history, so she can start to market the cottages to a better class of customer. </p><p> </p><p>Monday morning, Anne was at the desk of the archives, hoping to get to see her ancestor’s documents in controlled conditions. The assistant at the desk was a mousey little thing, in a pleated skirt and twin set. Anne smiled, and asked her if she would be able to view the Lister/Shibden documents, and the woman seemed terribly nervous as soon as she said that she was a Lister.</p><p>“Yes, my aunt put me on to this. Said that there were perhaps a dozen or so ledgers, and I thought that I couldn’t wait to see them!”</p><p>“Well, we can bring them up for you. But you will need an appointment, to give us time to locate and prepare the documents. The next appointment is tomorrow at 12.30pm? Does that suit?”</p><p>“Yes, that would be perfect. Thanks!” </p><p>The receptionist wrote out a card, and passed it to Anne. The woman seemed a little flustered. Anne cockily wondered if that was down to her? Women were often flustered around her. </p><p>A date booked, and Anne bounded back through the door, and into the sunlight. Tomorrow would be a good day.</p><p> </p><p>Monday morning, Ann was sitting at the front desk in the archives when the external door swung open, and in strode Anne Lister. Ann was floored. Her hair was tied back, and she was wearing black suit with high-waisted trousers and a charcoal dress shirt. Very business-like, and yet not too different to what she wore on Saturday. </p><p>Anne approached the desk, smiled at her and started asking about an appointment to view some books and documents from her estate. Ann couldn’t believe her luck. Anne still didn’t recognise her, either as the Ann Walker she once knew, or as the girl in the gold dress who fucked in cupboards. Ann kept her head down for most of their conversation, choosing instead to view the booking screen instead. Anne simply didn’t seem to notice this at all. Ann could still see her hands as she laid them on the desk in front of her. Long elegant fingers, a wide palm and a span that exceeded an octave. The memory of those hands running over her body gave her butterflies. She had to find a way to have those hands on her again soon. </p><p>She wrote an appointment card out, took Anne’s email so the system could generate an automatic email to remind her of the appointment. Ann passed her the card, looked her in the eye:</p><p>“We shall see you tomorrow, Miss Lister”</p><p>Ann took a moment more to check. No, nothing. Anne Lister did not know who she was at all.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Servicable Knickers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Here we go! Another chapter today! Brace yourselves - the burn has slowed a little, but not for much longer.</p><p>Let me know what you think! I know where I am going, but I might be able to fit a request in :)</p>
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    <p>As soon as the clock struck 2pm, Ann grabbed her coat and bag, and headed out of the door. The archives management had been good to her, and were always flexible when she needed to leave for a counselling appointment. Especially now, following Andrew’s death, they really did treat her with kid gloves. </p><p>She had been seeing a counsellor since her final year at school, when her A Levels had threatened to crush her under the weight of her family’s expectations. Later, when her mother died after what had initially seemed like a minor fall, Ann was practically unreachable. Less than 10 months after this, her father had a stroke whilst at work. He was in a coma for a few days, until Elizabeth and Ann were advised to have his life support switched off. Ann had been a shy, nervous girl before her world had been tipped upside down by death, but her anxiety levels had soared over the years. After each set back, her depression became more ingrained, until not always being able to get out of bed, not always feeling capable of washing or dressing, rarely being able to eat, were the new normal for Ann. Elizabeth tried to support her, but it was really impossible over so many miles. Catherine was always there for her, but Ann frequently felt bad about asking too often for support. </p><p>Things really had taken a positive turn when she met Andrew. He understood depression and loss, having lost family himself. She felt comfortable in telling him anything. He also understood that intimacy was something that was virtually impossible for Ann. She had let him believe that this was part of her condition, because she couldn’t face telling him that it was because she just wasn’t that way inclined. If she had been honest enough with him, Ann feared that he would have left her. But then death took him anyway, and now this is where she was now – Calling her counsellor for an urgent appointment, purely because she had got drunk and behaved like depraved animal. </p><p> </p><p>It was clear from the off that Tania, her counsellor, had thought that Ann would want to talk about what ought to have been her wedding day. And she was right, but not for the reasons she might reasonably assume.  Ann got herself comfortable, and suddenly realised that in the five years she had been seeing Tania, she had never once mentioned her sexuality. It had never occurred to her that it was important. She had never had a relationship with anyone, so there was really very little to say. She took a deep breath and began:</p><p>“I went out on Saturday afternoon, with my sister and cousin, and we got very, very drunk”</p><p>“It’s good for you to let off some steam every now and again, Ann. Did you have a good time?”</p><p>“Yes, well, at first. But then. It just all went wrong. I did something terrible. Degrading. I behaved in a way that would shock anyone who knows me”</p><p>“And how do you feel about it now?”</p><p>“I feel disgusted with myself” Ann looks down at her hands. “Horrified, actually. But part of me, and it is a worryingly large part of me, doesn’t feel as dirty as they ought to. Part of me is saying that it’s ok, and that loads of people have done similar things and they’re alright. Oh, I don’t know…”</p><p>“What you did, was it something that was harmful to yourself, or to any one else?”</p><p>“Harmful? To me, but only because I keep going over and over it, in my mind”</p><p>“So no one around you is telling you what you did was degrading? Dirty?”</p><p>“No one else knows. I would rather die than anyone find out”</p><p>“Do you want to open up a little more about what it was that hapened, or do you feel that you shouldn’t tell me either?”</p><p>“I do want… No, I do need to tell someone. I want someone else to decide if what I have done is as bad as it feels”</p><p>“Well, can I ask. Were you so drunk you really had no idea what you were doing?”</p><p>“Ah, no. No I did know. I was drunk, but I was with it”</p><p>“Ok, so did you remember to do a temperature check?”</p><p>“Yes, I did” Ann remembers doing this, and feeling incredible. Not filthy at all.</p><p>“So, how did that go?”</p><p>“I felt that it was right. At that time. Before hand”</p><p>“So what changed?”</p><p>“I went to a bar, in the afternoon with my sister and cousin. And I saw a woman at the bar who I had fancied when I was a kid at school. In my teens. For a long time, actually. I asked her out when I was 19, and she turned me down flat. Well, she was in the bar on her own. And I went up to her, and I kissed her. And then we ended up in a cleaning cupboard, and I lost my virginity to her. And then I was so carried away, I went down on her. Only she didn’t remember me at all. She is clearly OK with doing this sort of thing with anyone, and I ought to have waited for someone who at least asked my name, because she certainly didn’t! She barely said goodbye! She never wanted my number, no intention of ever seeing me again. And what has happened since is that I have realised that I degraded myself for someone who doesn’t even know anything about me, doesn’t care. So much so that I have seen her today, just now at work. She called in to book an appointment, and I spoke to her myself, she was standing as close as we are, and she still didn’t recognise me from Saturday. Nothing. She isn’t thinking about me at all, and all I can do is think about her! And about what we did, and how I felt then and how I feel now, which is two very different things entirely” Ann finished. Exhausted. </p><p>“Ok, there’s a lot for us to look at here, but firstly, Ann you should not feel dirty for having sex with someone you want to have sex with. That is totally normal. That is something that we all do, or aspire to do”</p><p>“Ok” Ann seems unsure.</p><p>“Ann, how old are you now? 29? Don’t beat yourself up about not waiting. You have waited. And you chose her, didn’t you?”</p><p>“Yes, and at the time, at the time it did feel like the right thing to do. It was afterwards”</p><p>“It was afterwards because she didn’t ask to see you again?”</p><p>“No, it was afterwards when she still hadn’t asked my name”</p><p>"Well, that’s on her and not you. That is not your issue, that’s hers. Can we look at what happened another way?”</p><p>“Ok?” Still unsure.</p><p>“You went out with your family, and you had a really good time with them. Then, you ran into someone you had wanted to hook up with in your teens. Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah…”</p><p>“And she wanted to hook up with you. And that ended with you sleeping together. Which is something you both wanted”</p><p>“Yeah”</p><p>"And that is the root of what happened. And that is all ok, Ann. Really, it is. None of that devalues who you are. You are allowed to do things you want sometimes, and not be apologetic about it”</p><p>Ann was somewhat soothed by having told someone, and them not being horrified or disgusted with her. </p><p>The session ended with the counsellor talking about personal safety and taking the risk out of sex in future. And a promise that in the next session they would look at Ann’s self-esteem again. Ann did feel a little better. Having seen Anne Lister again today, she knew that what she was really upset about was that she loved her. And Anne didn’t have a clue who she was.</p><p> </p><p>Anne spent the rest of the afternoon driving between the cottages, compiling a snagging list based on her own somewhat limited knowledge of building and construction. The worst of what she discovered were eight roofs with missing tiles, one so bad around the chimney she isn’t surprised to find damp in the loft, and water marks on the bedroom ceilings. All of the kitchens and bathrooms would need to be ripped out and bought up to standard. Not for the current guests who seemingly sleep in accommodation with leaky roofs, and have no complaints. No, Anne wants to bring in a higher class of guest. People with money to spend. But to get hold of this goldmine, Anne has to sort out these cottages, and it’s not going to be cheap. She needs a miracle, she thinks. She will invite some local builders to quote, and then she will see what money she can find to get the business back up and running. </p><p>Later that night, Anne and her aunt went over the booking websites that their guests book and pay through, and Anne found that two of them hadn’t paid up as yet, and owed her over £2000. She realises that she has to get back on top of this, and fast. Her aunt is getting on, and Marian is useless. Since she has been back, she had only surfaced to moan about being asked to do real any work. Anne had to remind her that this is actually her property, her land, and she both employs Marian, and keeps a roof over her head. Marian sulked off after that. Anne wonders if she should perhaps hire someone better? Let her sister stand on her own two feet. After all, when their uncle died, he left it all to Anne because she is the oldest, and it was thought Marian would probably want to marry and move away. She didn’t, though. She wanted to stay here, and annoy Anne. Marian had a right to live there, but there wasn’t anything to say that she had to employ her too. Especially when her mistakes were costing Anne money. </p><p>One new idea she has had for the cottages, is to prepare a guide of walks for the guests. Anne knows the fields, hills and streams in the area like the back of her hand. She decides that every day, she will walk a particular route, and map it out and time it. She is glad that she knows now what has gone wrong, so that she can have the challenge of making it right. </p><p>When she is quiet, and alone in her room that night, thoughts of that girl come back to her head again. Of how lovely it would be to have her here. Anne smiles, and thinks it would be bloody marvellous to have her here with her now, in bed. But that isn’t really it. She would like to get to know her, *talk* to her, as her aunt suggested. As she falls asleep, she imagines the girls golden curls flooding her pillows, and how she would feel, laid in her arms. She really must get away to see Mrs Rawson, see if she was right about the friend. </p><p> </p><p>Ann goes home, and goes straight upstairs to look though her wardrobe. It’s awash with very formal, very old fashioned clothes. Tweed suits, twinsets, dirndl skirts. Ann likes to dress like a lady. She doesn’t follow fashion, just makes sure she buys more cashmere every year. More silk scarves. Her look is classic, she thinks. But it isn’t going to work for her tomorrow. Who does she know who has so many clothes, she doesn’t know what to do with them? She calls Catherine. </p><p>She needs to borrow a different sort of work outfit. Nothing too outlandish, but it must be sexy. Catherine comes straight over. She loves doing makeovers, and she is still on a high about how Ann had looked on Saturday. </p><p>“Have you thought about underwear?” Catherine asks.</p><p>“No, why?”</p><p>“Because this outfit will be coming off, wont it?” Ann won’t say, but Catherine knows she must be doing this because she is seeing Anne Lister again.</p><p>“No, of course not! Why would you think that? It’s for work. I feel dowdy, and it’s time I dressed my age”</p><p>Ann panics after Catherine has left. She was right, she has no underwear that is suitable. What underwear should she wear? She digs though everything she has. Drawers filled with M&amp;S full briefs and sensible bras. She decides all she can do it to rinse out the white silk cami knickers, and smooth out the corset. These are all she has, and Anne seemed to like them last time. They're going back into service.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. “Do you have any questions about what is, and isn't allowed here?”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So, they meet again...</p><p>Leave a comment - let me know what you think!</p>
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    <p>When Ann Walker walks into the office, people don’t generally notice her. But when she walks in wearing Catherine’s tight black pencil skirt, even though she was also wearing her usual cashmere and flats, her colleagues immediately notice the difference. Was she going out at lunch? No. Was she going out after work? No. Ann informed them that she simply wanted to try a new look. Her hair was still piled up in a bun, as ever, and she hadn’t worn any make up, but she knew that this skirt made a huge difference to how people saw her, and for that she was grateful to Catherine for having such a good eye for these things. </p><p>The first building contractors had called around first thing, to meet Anne, and to look at the cottage roofs. She went with them, showing them around each cottage, and asking as many questions as she could think of about how the roof was constructed, and what sort of materials they would use. She explained her plans to fully renovate the cottages over the course of a year, and that she would be looking for a high spec finish in each. The men seemed to understand what would be required, and left to draw up their quote. After she had waved them off, she checked her watch and was shocked to find it was already 12. Her appointment at the archives was in 30 minutes. </p><p>By 12, Ann’s colleagues start to shuffle about, making plans for lunch, deciding which pub they should go to, which sandwich shop. Ann always brings her own lunch. But today she will go hungry. Or not as the case may be, she giggles to herself. She had been to collect the first of the ledgers earlier today, and has already set up the book rest, snake, acid paper and two pairs of gloves – one for her, and one for Anne – in the room they she has booked out. It’s the furthest from the office, has a window but isn’t overlooked, and the door can be locked from the inside if you have a staff key. And of course, Ann does. Ann is thrilled with her own inventiveness – She really has thought of everything, with military precision.  Today, she cannot wait for them all to leave. She has planned being able to get her make up on, sort her hair and change her top and shoes down to the last minute, so that she would be ready for 12.25, in case Anne is early. The archives always have rooms free at 12.30, because the archives aren’t technically open then. It’s the lunch hour, so no one really ought to be here. Obviously, Anne doesn’t know that, thinks Ann with a smile. She heads off to the toilets with her bag. </p><p>The cashmere comes off first, in exchange for Catherine’s extraordinarily tight black shirt. She buttons it up over her bridal corset, she unbuttons the two at the top. Looks down, and then unbuttons a third. She wants her cleavage to be on display. Then she takes her hair down, and scrunches the curls up until they bounce. Next, her make up. This was the part she had been dreading, as she rarely wore any. Today, she was going to replicate the look Elizabeth gave her on Saturday. Bronzer, glitter, thick black eyeliner and huge false eyelashes. She took her time, and with a steadier hand than she could have believed, she applies both the liner and the lashes. She pushes her feet into a pair of black heels, and applies her watermelon lip gloss and her vanilla perfume. She looks at herself in the mirror. She really did look like someone else. Not quite the TOWIE-tastic look she was sporting last Saturday, but much better than her usual. Ready. She stands, takes her pass card and name tag off of her skirt - she can't be Ann Walker, can she? The corset even changes how she stands. It gives her amazing posture, and that makes her look confident. This was exactly the effect she was aiming for. </p><p>Back out at her desk, and it’s 12.30. Anne is nowhere to be seen. Ann is gutted. She isn’t going to show, is she? Clearly, looking at the ledgers was as much as a passing fancy as she was herself. She feels a bit deflated, but not really surprised. </p><p>She gets up to get herself a drink from the kitchen, but as she walked past the desk next to hers, she knocks a miniature teddy bear to the floor. She is bending over the desk, trying to reach it, when she hears the doors fly open. </p><p>Anne hated being late, and flew down Old Bank into the town. She was quietly impressed with herself that she could still run as far, as fast. The exercise was exhilarating, and helped to shave the time off too. She checked her watch as she jumped up the steps to the door, it was 12.33. She strides into the reception area, looking around for an assistant. It appeared to be quite deserted, until she spotted a very shapely young woman bending over a desk, whilst wearing an incredibly tight black skirt. She looked amazing. Anne couldn’t take her eyes off the woman’s arse. She felt aroused just looking at her. This only amplified when the woman, rather than standing up and turning, looked back over her shoulder, and made eye contact. Anne realised that it was the girl from the bar on Saturday. The girl she couldn’t stop thinking about ever since. The one who keeps her awake at night. The girl smiled; she recognised her too. </p><p>Anne moved closer to the counter, and the blonde stood up and came over to meet her. She looked stunning, head to toe in skin tight black office wear, like a naughty secretary.<br/>
Anne wondered about kicking Marian out of the office, and having the blonde work for her instead. </p><p>“Don’t I know you?” Anne asks, in a low voice.</p><p>Ann feels suddenly emboldened.<br/>
“If you mean in the biblical sense, then yes, Miss Lister, you do”</p><p>Anne smiles. What a terrifically debauched girl she is! Whatever she wanted to do with her, she would most certainly be in to it. And vice versa. </p><p>“I thought so. How are you?”</p><p>“I’m very well. I was waiting for you”</p><p>“Bent over that desk?”</p><p>“Hmm" Ann smiles "You’re sweaty”</p><p>“Ah" Anne pulls a monogrammed handkerchief from her trouser pocket, runs it over her forehead. "I ran all the way here” Anne wonders if that is going to be a barrier. Most girls she has met much prefer her scrubbed and immaculate.</p><p>Ann laughs, then blushes. She walks around the counter to stand next to Anne. She touches her arm, to walk with her. Leaning into her side, breathing her in. Her actions make Anne feel weak. She turns to Ann, open mouthed.</p><p>“Let me show you where the room is” Says Ann, as though the room was a bedroom, not an office. "The first ledger and the protective equipment are all already there”</p><p> </p><p>Ann takes Anne into the room she has booked for her. Once they are both inside, Ann locks the door. This action is noted immediately by Anne, who is extremely aroused now. She knows they’re going to have sex in here, and whatever it is the girl wants to do, she is 100% into it. </p><p>Ann doesn't really know what she is doing. She is trying to be as alluring as possible. Adopting pouts and poses like girls in magazines. She goes through the procedure of how to handle the ledgers, and does it as slowly and as sexily as such a discussion can be had. She then snaps the gloves onto her hands with a flourish. She notes that Anne’s eyes widen. Once the first ledger is bought out of it’s protective box, she lays it carefully on the adjustable rest. Opens the first page, and lays the snake over it to hold the page. She snaps the gloves back off again. She then turns and looks Anne Lister in the eye, and asks;</p><p>“Do you have any questions about what is, and isn't allowed here?”</p><p>Anne says “no”, and she leans back in her chair, legs spread wide. Ann leans over Anne, breasts displayed to their best advantage, on the pretext she was trying to retrieve a pencil. </p><p>“Would you like me to stay, in case there is anything you need”</p><p>“If you stay, my dear, then I shall have everything I need” Ann smiles, and sits across Anne’s lap, giggling. </p><p>The first kiss is light, but when Anne takes the girls bottom lip immediately afterwards, it quickly becomes more passionate. Anne's hands are all over her. Ann presses back into the kiss, and Anne moans deeply as soon as she feels the corset. Anne loves how that feels under her hands, she loves the way it forces the girl’s breasts up high. Anne starts to lick, to bite Ann’s breasts. Her desire is making her breathless, and her ministrations drive Ann to mewl and sigh. She pulls Ann’s shirt from her skirt, and unbuttons it quickly. She runs her hands over the corset, and then she runs her hand up the blonde’s thigh, the girl wiggling and moaning in her lap as she does so, Anne kissing and licking her neck, from jaw to collarbone, and back again. Nipping at the skin nearest the bone, kissing down once more to her delectable breasts. Anne can scarcely recall a time she had met such a willing and needy girl to play with, and she absolutely loves it. Anne growls in her ear “Show me how much you want me” and the girl pulls her into a kiss, her tongue darting into Anne’s mouth, rubbing along her own. The girl’s hands are all over her, rubbing her neck, pressing into her shoulders, clawing at her back. Anne quickly finds that the pencil skirt limits her advances. Her hand not reaching nearly far enough up for her liking, nor for the little blonde, who is now rutting in her lap, chasing any friction she can find. </p><p>Her snuffling noises, little pants and sighs galvanise Anne. She pushes her chair back, and stands slowly, with Ann in her arms. She lays the girl down on the desk, and pushes her skirt up to her waist as she does so. Her face is in Ann's cleavage, but now the girl is on her back with her skirt up, Anne can smell her arousal. Her little blonde moaning and squirming beneath her. Anne trails her hand down to the girl’s core, and finds her hot, swollen and drenched. “Hmm, you are so deliciously wet for me again, aren’t you?” Ann’s reply comes out like a whine “yes!” Anne is finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate, the girl is just too delightful. It is then that she enters Ann, who howls as she pushes two fingers deep within her, and Anne groans when Ann’s walls suck her in hard, making it harder to pull out to thrust back in. “Are you trying to eat my fingers with your cunt?” she whispers, and with that, Ann comes, thrashing and screaming. </p><p>Anne feels like she is in her own fantasy. Finding this girl again, having sex in the rooms under the library, with a sexy archive assistant. She cannot believe her luck.</p><p>Almost as soon as Ann comes, she pulls Anne on top of her. Her voice thick with lust “I want to feel your weight on me”. Anne is more than happy to oblige, she lays on her fully, her legs between the girls legs. Anne’s own desire forces her to press down at the hips, seeking her release. Ann wraps her legs around Anne’s back, and moans. She quickly starts to move under her, her mewls and cries tell Anne that she is ready again. Anne raises up a little, draws her hand in between their bodies, and pushes into her lover again. This time Anne can feel the friction from her own trousers rubbing along Ann's thigh. She comes just after Ann does, Ann's panting, and squealing taking her over the edge. </p><p>Ann is amazed. This has actually happened. She presses her nose behind Anne’s ear, breathing her in. The heady scent of incense mixed with fresh sweat. Anne climbs off of her, careful not to knock the book rest to their side. She straightens up, straightens her tie, trousers etc, as Ann stands and does the same, smoothing down her pencil skirt, re-buttoning her tight blouse, tucking it back into her skirt. Anne smiles at her, tasting on her own lips that watermelon lip gloss again. The smell of vanilla perfume clinging to Anne’s body now too. </p><p>Anne looks at her, moves towards her and holds her. It’s as tender an embrace as the one Ann had remembered. She laughs, her voice sticking a little. Ann’s hands roam over Anne’s arms and stomach, fascinated by her abs. “You are so fucking fit” Ann gasps. “I don’t think I will ever have enough of you”. Anne can’t help but smile. This girl really is a boost to her shattered confidence. She isn’t saying such things out of habit, or sympathy. She means it. Anne feels suddenly embarrassed. She doesn’t know the girls name. It feels like it’s too late to ask, but she has to really. This cannot be the last time they meet.</p><p>“Well, you already know I’m Anne, but what’s your name? I feel dreadful asking you now, after all that we have done” she says, with a theatrical dip of her head, and a huge smile.</p><p>“Hannah” says Ann, quick as a flash. She could have said Ann Walker. She ought to have done. But Ann is just too taken with her fantasy persona now, she doesn’t want to go be Ann with Anne Lister. Ann is pitied by pretty much everyone. Ann is treat like an invalid by her aged relatives, who are far closer to infirmity than she is. Anne doesn't ask her anything else. Ann knows why. It's just sex to her. And if that is all that is on offer, Hannah is happy to accept that. </p><p>Fully dressed and tidied, they take their seats, and begin to view the ledger.</p><p>Anne books in again, this time to view the diaries 'Hannah' suggests.The date is set. Thursday lunchtime. Once she has left, Ann darts back to the toilets to change back into Ann Walker. </p><p>After work that same day, Ann goes shopping to buy more alluring underwear. She has never needed anything like this before, and feels embarrassed in the shop. The assistant looks at the girl in the twinset, and asks her if it's for a special occasion. Ann has a spurt of confidence. No, it's for work. </p><p>Home, and a bath. Catherine rings her just before she is thinking about going to bed. She wants to know how the black tight secretary outfit had gone down. Ann is embarrassed. Catherine tells her it's OK if she is seeing someone. But, if it is Anne Lister, to be very careful. Ann smiles. She is being.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. What do you have to talk to her about?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anne gets to work, and Ann finds another Anne.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have split this chapter in two, as it was becoming a bit too long! I shall return shortly with the rest! Let me know what you think - comments mean so much x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anne wakes at 6:28am on Wednesday morning, annoyed that she hadn’t made an appointment at the archives for today. When Hannah had checked the booking system she had said that Thursday was the next slot, Anne didn’t want to appear too keen. Perhaps Hannah had wanted to do the same, Anne mused. Seeing Hannah again yesterday was surprising. She certainly didn’t look like the sort of girl who worked with dusty old records in a library. Anne wonders in what other ways this girl will surprise her. </p><p>She goes to her diary, to make a record for yesterday. She isn’t sure how much of what she and Hannah got up to should be recorded, but decides on all of it. There is a day coming where such experiences will be a thing of the past, and her diaries will give her something to remember them by. Anne can’t get over how passionate the girl is, and how Anne finds she kisses her with a wanton desire that Anne had never thought she would ever feel again. There’s something curiously intimate in how much attention the girl pays to Anne in return. It’s not just Anne adoring Hannah’s body, her hair, her face. Hannah appears to adore Anne’s body too. She wonders what will happen on Thursday. She can’t imagine that they will sit next to one another, gloves on, calmly reading some dead ancestors diary for an hour. She is pretty sure that Hannah will have something planned. </p><p> </p><p>Ann is in the bowels of the archives, rooting through the Lister documents, as the set of diaries that are kept here are indexed to a particular number of letters, and also a newspaper article. She wants Anne to have access to as much information as they have available for her. She is very keen to do an excellent, professional job, irrespective of their other activities. The Lister/Shibden papers and books are important to the library here. </p><p>The Lister’s had been a very important family in the area, and had held prime positions in Halifax civic life until round one hundred years ago, when they lost their fortune to bad investments and being overly ambitious in landscaping the farmland all around them into gardens. The reason that they still have Shibden at all is because of Anne’s uncle James, who returned from America with a fortune. </p><p>Ann wonders how she knows all this. It’s because she has spent years finding things out about Anne. Anne Lister is Ann Walker’s specialist subject. In the way that other kids fantasised over pop stars, for Ann it was always Anne Lister. When she used to call over to see her mother, to help with the garden, Ann used to watch her from her bedroom window. One summer, when Ann was about 14, Anne was busy digging and weeding in the gardens at Crow Nest. Ann was mesmerised by her, her hair was scraped back, but too many loose strands were flying around her head due to the humidity, and the dirt that came from her hands when she smoothed the flyaways down.  Then the dirt from her hands ended up on her face, her the sweat make it streak down into her collar. She always wore huge, old, men’s shirts, open collared, long sleeves rolled up. And denim shorts, to show the world her long, tanned muscular legs. Ann could see the muscles in her back through the shirt as it got wet.  Ann remembered vividly that this was the first time she had ever felt aroused. She felt for the first time the way Catherine felt about the boys in the year above.<br/>
But Anne Lister was even better than that, because she was in her 20s, and had been working at a ski resort the previous winter, and had even climbed a mountain. She had been away at Durham University reading Classics. She was worldly, and she had experience, and that was even more desirable than having someone your own age, in Ann’s opinion. She wanted Anne to let her run her hands down her arms, her chest and stomach, she wanted Anne to kiss her. Desperately so. It was the main reason Ann always stayed indoors, and just stared from her window. She knew that she would be a jibbering wreck if she went outside and tried to speak to her. She had nothing at all of interest to say. That night was the first time Ann ever masturbated, and it wasn’t the last, as Miss Lister seemed to find herself frequently doing gardening work for her mother, her Aunt Ann, as well as Catherine’s grandmother, and her neighbour Eliza Priestley. She had wanted Anne Lister to want her in the same way for all those years, and now she does. Ann can hardly believe it – it’s like a fairy tale, albeit an X-rated one.</p><p>Ann finds the newspaper article. It’s from a French publication, from the 1830s. Ann doesn’t understand French, but she knows Anne does as she lived there for many years. She wonders what it says, and scans the code to view it later. She also inadvertently finds two Yorkshire newspaper articles. Recording the death of a woman in 1840 called Anne Lister. She had been a mountaineer, apparently. Ann can’t stop smiling. Anne is going to absolutely love this, and she will love Ann a little bit too for finding this information for her. Well, she’ll love Hannah a little bit. Ann is going to have to somehow sort that out. She just can’t see a way out of it. She is just going to have to take it as far as she can, and then when it’s over, which it will be, and soon most likely, she must remember not to be too upset about it. She has already had more of Anne than she deserves. </p><p> </p><p>Breakfast at Shibden was becoming a fraught affair. Anne had found more evidence of money owed, and not collected. She just cannot believe how lax Marian has been in keeping the holiday lets afloat. </p><p>“You can’t throw me out, if that’s your idea!”</p><p>“Throw you out? At this rate we might not have a choice but to leave! Do you know how much debt we are in? No, of course you don’t! You really haven’t been keeping a track, have you?”</p><p>“That’s what we pay an accountant for, Anne! If things were as bad as you say, he’d have said so before now!”</p><p>“You’re paying an accountant to do all the books now? Since when?”</p><p>“Since you weren’t here, and didn’t seem in a hurry to come back! I can’t do all the office stuff and scrub out all the cottages! Yeah! I’m doing all that, Anne! You reckon Auntie can do all that cleaning, all that laundry, everyday these days?”</p><p>“It would be cheaper had you paid for a cleaner, not an accountant, Marian. Good lord, I really do need to be here all day every day, don’t I?”</p><p>“Yeah, you do! You should be! This is your house, and your business, as you never tire of telling everyone you meet. You need to be here, Anne”</p><p>“Anyhow, who is this accountant? I need to see him sooner rather than later”</p><p>“It’s John”</p><p>“John?”</p><p>“John Abbott” Marian is sheepish</p><p>“Oh, so you’ve given my books over to your sometime boyfriend? I’m sure all my secrets are safe with him, as soon as it’s all off again!”</p><p>“God, you are paranoid! How special do you think you are? You come back here, slagging me off for not being superwoman, and complaining about everything. You want to change everything, without even thinking what it will cost or where the money will come from. You are so fucking extravagant in everything, all the time Anne! Always! Your not paying attention will lose you this place, not me! I lost it as soon as you inherited it, and all the cottages. All I got was a few quid!”</p><p>“It was more than a few –“</p><p>Aunt Anne comes in, having heard the argument from the other side of the house. It always ended up escalating like this. She breaks Anne off mid-sentence. </p><p>“Now, can we all calm down a bit? Hmm? Getting at each other like this isn’t going to improve the situation. Now, Marian. Go and get John’s office mobile for Anne, ok?”</p><p>“Alright!” Marian huffs, and leaves the room. Aunt Anne leans across to Anne, puts her hand on Anne’s wrist.</p><p>“We will get all of this sorted, now you are here, Anne. Marian is right, running this place is beyond her now. Too much to do, and I’m not getting any younger”</p><p>“I know. I do know. Just, God, this place, Halifax, it’s just so claustrophobic!”</p><p>“Yes, well, it wouldn’t be if you were into your stride with the business again. And if you did go to see Ann Walker -” Anne rolls her eyes, and pulls her wrist away “No, Anne, she is a sweet little thing these days. When she comes up here to visit Marian and I –“</p><p>“She comes up here to visit you and Marian? Why?”</p><p>“Because she only lives down the road, and she gets lonely. Her sister moved up to Scotland. Her cousins are a rowdy bunch, but she’s a quiet young woman. She’s a very serious sort of person, and I really do think you would find you had things in common with her”</p><p>“What a sales pitch! I’ll take her!” Anne laughs, smiling at Aunt Anne as she does so. Her aunt clips the back of her head with her hand as she gets up, and leaves the room. </p><p> </p><p>Ann calls Catherine at lunch time. She needs more clothes. Catherine is in hysterics. How exciting is all of this, eh? Her little Ann and Anne Lister! What is she like? Where do they go? What does she think will happen next? Will she be moving into Shibden in the next few weeks?</p><p>“Ugh, you’ve not had sex with her in my skirt, have you? Cos if you have, you can get it dry cleaned before you give it back! Same goes for the shirt!”</p><p>“No, of course I haven’t!”</p><p>“Because you had sex with her in my gold dress. I could tell!”</p><p>“No I didn’t! How could you tell?”</p><p>“Ha ha! ‘How could you tell’? That’s an admission of guilt if ever I heard one!”</p><p>“No, it isn’t. I didn’t”</p><p>“No, I know. I’m teasing! She had already ripped that off of you! There was muck all over it, like it had been kicked around a storeroom floor!”</p><p>“What? Catherine, I-“ Ann is panicked.</p><p>“No worries! Secrets safe with me! Glad to know she’s the same player she always was!” And with that Catherine ends the call. </p><p> </p><p>Anne starts to plot one of the walks she wants to write up for the guests, for when she can finally have the sort of guests she wants. First walk she thinks should be to Beacon Hill, so she makes her way there, noting all the turns, any land marks, as she goes. She is glad to have the ability to come out and walk in the countryside here. It’s what convinces her that the set who once paid her for her advice and assistance in mountaineering will now want to stay in the cottages, and have a few days to clear their heads too. </p><p>She can’t help but ruminate on Marian, and her outrageous attitude. She really was one entitled little shit. Well, Marian shall have to stick to the cleaning now, because if Anne has to stay, she is needed in her office. And Aunt Anne! Anne realises that it’s not just she herself who knows that time is running out for her to find someone she can make some sort of a life with. Her Aunt knows it too. Anne isn’t as hard up for company as her Aunt might assume, however. She smiles. Hannah. Sexy as hell, and yet she works in the archives. She needs to see where this goes before she tells her Aunt to back off with the matchmaking, but Anne feels quietly hopeful. </p><p> </p><p>Catherine Rawson turns up at 7:30 sharp, bottle of prosecco in hand, takeaway sushi in the other, with a suitcase on wheels. Ann goes to get glasses and plates, as Catherine sorts her bags out into some sort of an order on the floor. </p><p>“Ok, ok! Now, I am not an expert on what middle aged lesbians find sexy, but you clearly are so you can choose yourself from the selection I have provided!” She flings the case open with a flourish. </p><p>“Catherine! Please!” Ann is embarrassed. She doesn’t want Catherine to know the ins and outs of what has been going on, but fears that the requests for clothes have unleashed a barrage of questions that she doesn’t know if she will ever be ready to answer.</p><p>“Ok, ok! It’s not me who is knocking off some posh mountaineering type though! What’s she like? What do you have to talk to her about?”</p><p>“What do I have to talk to her about? Am I that dull?”</p><p>“My grandma says that she has been to parties with European royalty. That she knows all sorts of influential people in Paris and London. I don’t know. What do you talk to her about?”</p><p>“Well, mostly, when she comes to the archives, we go through the documents we have for her family, her ancestors. I found out today that she isn’t the first Anne Lister to own that house, and she isn’t the first to be a mountaineer either. So, when I see her tomorrow, we shall talk about that, probably”</p><p>“Oh, well, that’s a bit of a downer isn’t it?”</p><p>“Is it?”</p><p>“Well, if that's all you do, what do you need this for!” and she holds up a crimson silk velvet dress.</p><p>“I don’t need a velvet dress for work!”</p><p>“Ah, good point. This then?” and she holds out a pretty tea dress in a light blue. It’s floaty, and the colour suits her hair and eyes. </p><p>“Yes! That’s the one! Thank you Catherine! I mean that. You are a good friend”</p><p>“Glad you noticed. So, now that one has been selected, shall I take the skirt and shirt back with me today?”</p><p>“Ah, sorry! I need to get them dry cleaned!” Ann says, beaming at Catherine, who catches her meaning immediately.</p><p>“Oh! You dark horse! Are you going to tell me all about it, or what?!</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Thursday Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thursday morning - Our ladies prepare themselves for the day ahead.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Bit of fluff and nonsense for you :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thursday morning, and Ann is preparing to leave for work. She can feel a slight headache coming on, from drinking with Catherine on a school night. She had needed a drink, the questions Catherine was firing at her. Most of them she had refused to answer, but some of them she did. She hoped that even then, she had been as vague as possible. She really didn’t want to discuss her sex life with Catherine, or with anyone. But Catherine had managed to get out of her that yes, she does have a sex life. Catherine’s remarks about Anne being a player resonated with Ann, however, and made her feel a little low. What is so special to her, probably doesn’t mean as much to Anne. </p><p>She decided to wear the blue dress to work, with the underwear she had bought a couple of days ago on as well, so she wouldn’t have to get changed. She wanted to spend as long a time as was possible in the presence of Anne. This way, she didn’t need to be darting to the loo to change back again, before her colleagues returned from lunch.</p><p>When she had gone to the shop to buy the new underwear, she had been shown some very erotic black lingerie sets, some were pink and black and, some were red. Any of them would be something that ‘Hannah’ might wear, but she had decided on white. That is what she had been wearing, and so she would continue. Just the idea of wearing the other stuff made her feel cheap. She felt much better in the exquisite silk eyelash lace bra, with matching knickers. The lace was feather-light and soft, like gossamer. It looked so delicate and pretty. That is how Ann wanted to be seen today. She got her makeup ready in her bag, her false eyelashes and a pair of Catherine’s silver strappy high heels. </p><p> </p><p>Anne was pacing in her room, moving from cupboard to bookcase, to the window, to the bed. She was so restless, she couldn’t stand still. And for why? She knows why. She’s nervous about seeing Hannah again. She wants to make a good impression, try to find out more about the girl. See where this might go. She isn’t sure that what she ultimately wants – to be married, to run her business with someone beside her - is something a girl Hannah’s age would really be interested in. She certainly wouldn’t have been in her 20s. But, Hannah seems pretty interested in Anne physically, and that is completely fine with Anne. She is up for absolutely anything that girl suggests. She wonders what might happen today, and decides to dress for the occasion. </p><p>Anne has started to notice things that Ann seems to like. She seemed to like her to wear fairly tight suit trousers, as she was always running her hands over Anne’s arse and thighs, sighing as she did so. Anne had also started to notice what Ann liked her to do to her, and how. She relaxes a little when she remember the low, erratic, uncontrollable moan Ann emits whenever Anne licks and nips at her ear lobe. There is something about that sound that Anne finds utterly intoxicating, that drives her on. She remembers how whenever she has dragged her teeth down the girl’s neck, it’s taken Hannah to the very edge of her orgasm, and the mewling that ensues takes Anne to the brink of hers. Just that simple action. Incredible really. The thought of this sustains her until 11:30, when she starts to get ready to leave. </p><p>Her aunt rolls her eyes as she sees Anne bound down the stairs, hair swept back in a ponytail, wearing a very sharp black pinstripe suit, crisp white dress shirt, and cufflinks, drenched in Chanel. Aunt Anne knew where she was off to, to see that girl she had picked up in a bar. She has to make her own mistakes, her aunt muses, but it seems she never learns from them. </p><p>“You look smart. Are you going to Lightcliffe? To visit that poor young woman?”<br/>
“No!” Anne calls back, as the door slams.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. I've Missed You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anne arrives at the archives early...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another portion of this monster chapter - More to come, as it were!</p><p>Keep telling me what you think!!! Comments are everything x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Anne pushes the doors open at the archives, she makes sure she checks her watch. 12.20pm. Ten minutes early. Hardly a shock, as she had bounded down the Old Bank, to get into town. As she strides through the foyer, she is passed by a group of people laughing and joking. Hannah’s colleagues, Anne imagines. Do they all have lunch at the same time, apart from Hannah, Anne wonders.</p><p>Once at the front desk, she scans the area for Hannah. No sign. So she walks down the corridor, to the room Hannah had booked for her last time. The door is slightly open, and Anne sees Hannah setting up the book stand, carefully laying out the precious artefact. Anne stays in the doorway, watching the care Hannah puts into the simplest of tasks. She smiles. The girl wears her thick, golden hair loose, tendrils falling into her eyes as she works. She wears a pale blue dress with a tight buttoned bodice that strains over her breasts, with a light, floaty skirt, the hem of which rides her silken thighs. Anne feels her heat rise. She walks in, and locks the door behind her. </p><p>Ann’s concentration when handling the precious documents from the archives is second to none. It has to be, as she knows what might appear to be a reasonably sturdy leather bound book can turn to dust if dropped or knocked. The first she is aware of Anne’s arrival is when she hears the door lock. She looks up, to see Anne Lister standing there, looking impossibly handsome in a black pinstriped suit and white shirt. Ann makes sure she has the documents secure on the desk, before running across the room and into Anne’s arms. She knows that this action might make her appear desperate, but she doesn’t care. She has missed Anne terribly. 24 hours is just too long to be apart from her. </p><p>Anne’s smile brightens as Ann approaches. Her arms open, and swallow Ann into a deep hug. Ann clings on to her, as if her life depended on it. Anne Lister smells amazing, thinks Ann. Her scent masculine, expensive, heady. Ann runs her hands up her hard stomach over her crisp white shirt, across her soft breasts, up to her collar bone, and leans in to be kissed. Anne meets her lips, and their connection is electric. Anne holds her little blondes head, placing one hand cupping the back of her head, her fingers sweeping through the warm curls at the nape of her neck. She tilts her girls face, deepening their kiss, her other hand running up to meet her girls breast, tracing a finger along her clavicle, stroking up her neck, to her ear. Her thumb rubbing small circles on her cheek, as she turns her little blondes head again, their kiss becoming heated. </p><p>Ann is licking Anne’s bottom lip, her teeth grazing it lightly, her tongue moving in as Anne allows her entrance. Ann is showing the same focus in kissing Anne as she had shown the documents a moment ago. Absolute concentration, as though her life depended on it. Anne pulls Ann to her by her waist, one hand still behind her neck. Their tongues slide together, pressing and releasing, Ann now moaning into her lovers’ mouth. Anne turns them, so now the girl has her back to the wall, and she is pushing against her. Ann opens her legs to allow Anne to shove one knee high, right up in between them. Ann knows that Anne wants her to ride her leg as her arousal grows, but Ann knows that she can’t. She has been wet all morning, fantasising about meeting her lover again, and knows that if she grinds down on Anne’s leg, she will ruin her trousers. She pulls at the shoulders of Anne’s jacket, and encourages her to shuck it off. Next, she pulls at the back of Anne’s shirt, pulling the tails out of her trousers at the back, and then dragging her hands up, desperate to feel her skin. </p><p>When her fingers first feel the heat in Anne’s skin, Ann finds that a deep groan is drawn from them both. Anne pushes into her again, their lips sliding against one another, tongues dancing together, Anne’s hand in Ann’s hair, pulling lightly at the scalp. They kiss, pressing against one another, stroking one another’s faces, necks, as they do so for what seems like hours. Ann feels Anne smile against her mouth, and she returns it. Ann is head over heels in love, and she is hoping that such affectionate displays from Anne might mean that she is a little bit in love with her too. Ann missed Anne desperately yesterday. She has no idea why she suggested Thursday as the next time they could meet. They ought to have met on Wednesday, and again today. Ann thinks that she will never make that mistake again. She wants all of Anne Lister that she can have. </p><p>Anne can feel her girl wriggling in her arms, so she presses her harder against the wall, taking the hand out of the girl’s hair, and using it to trail up her outer thigh. The chiffon hem of the dress has no resistance to Anne’s hand travelling up to her bottom, her hand now clamped where her tender thigh meets her soft, rounded cheek. Anne’s fingers start to dig in, feeling the cheeks separate, anticipating the moan that is dragged from her little blonde, as her core is opened, very slightly. Anne moves her hand around, touching the girl lightly in between her legs. Ann is drenched, her knickers soaked, her upper thighs damp with arousal, her folds slick. Anne moves the sodden fabric to one side, and traces a finger along her slit, her girl mewling and rutting as she does so, her mouth never leaving her little blondes lips, now swollen from the depth of their kisses. Anne tries to get the girl to ride her leg, but she keeps resisting. Anne whispers:</p><p>“I’ve missed you, darling. I’ve missed how much you love to fuck”</p><p>The girl begins to wail, her hips now rutting on Anne’s thigh, her delicate thighs now clamping down on either side of Anne’s muscular one. Anne’s hands at her arse, dragging her up against her, to allow her to fall back down. The girl is frantic, clawing at her back. Anne can feel her own arousal threaten to overwhelm her. The seductive, intense kisses, mixed with the panting mewling girl with her full lips, heavy breasts and dripping, open core take Anne to the edge. She moves one hand from her girl’s buttocks, and starts to rub her clit, her soft finger tips pressing the girl’s button hard. As she does this, she starts to lick at the girl’s neck, moving to her ear. The carnal moan that tears from her throat spurs Anne on, pushing two fingers into the girl, as she raises her legs to hook behind Anne’s waist. Anne pressing her girl harder into the wall to keep her there. Ann is ready, and Anne knows that it’s time to scratch the girls throat with her teeth, let the girls walls contract on her fingers, feel Ann’s cum pour from her spent hole. For a moment all Anne is focused on is pinning the girl to the wall, hearing the obscene wet slap and slide as she fucks her girl against the wall, and the tense, heightened breathing bellowing from both of them. Anne’s teeth nip at Ann’s lobe for one last time, as she scrapes her teeth along the length of her beautiful neck. Ann’s walls grip Anne’s fingers immediately, Ann feels like an earthquake is erupting deep inside her. Her quivering sex biting down on Anne’s hand, pulling her in deeper as she tries to pull out. Anne is fascinated by her girl’s desire. It’s raw, unbridled and entirely her own. Ann comes hard, with Anne buried inside of her, Anne kissing her so deeply, Ann worries as she returns to the world, that she may have been starved of oxygen. Anne holds her up, until her legs can take her weight again. Ann feels bashful. She knows she was loud, and that her body had clamped down on Anne hard. She knows that she will have stained Anne’s trousers. But Anne doesn’t seem concerned, and pulls her ever closer, and kisses her. This new kiss seems to last for hours, and Ann feels that she will burst from the power of her feelings for Anne. She is all she has ever wanted, and she needs her to know that. Ann wants to tell her that she loves her, but knows that this is too soon. She wants Anne to marry her, but knows that she is really getting ahead of herself there. She wants Anne, and is happy to take up whatever space in Anne’s life she will allow her. </p><p>As Anne pulls back, to look into her girls eyes, she sees absolute adoration reflected back at her. She smiles, and pulls back further. The spell broken, bit by bit, their bodies slowly separate. Anne takes in the girls pretty blue dress. She really is a beauty, she thinks. Just adorable, and she pulls the girls head to her lips, and kisses her on the forehead. </p><p>“So! Shall I ask you how you are, now?” she laughs.</p><p>“I’m very well, thank you” the girls eyes look down, she blushes. Anne is transfixed. What an absolute delight this girl is. She is all Anne has ever wanted. Utterly filthy, and yet adorably demure at the same time. </p><p>The girl doesn’t want to take her hands off of Anne. She moves them, still under her shirt, to the front, skimming her abs. Anne watches, enraptured, as the girls mouth opens and releases a sigh. </p><p>“You like my abs, don’t you?” Anne laughs.</p><p>“I love your abs” Ann corrects her, and their eyes meet once again. Ann smiles. “And your shoulders” her eager little hands rubbing firmly across, and then down Anne’s arms over her shirt, to her wrists. “And your hands” Ann now has both of Anne’s hands in hers. She kisses both wrists lightly, smiling as she sees Anne exhale softly, her lips now open. “I especially love your fingers” and she takes the fingers that had moments ago been pushed inside of her, and draws them into her mouth, licking between the fingers with her tongue. </p><p>Anne gasps. Her excitement threatening to overwhelm her. Ann maintains eye contact with her, as she slowly moves them around, Anne’s back to the wall. Ann slides down her front, to her knees. She makes quick work of Anne’s belt, fly, briefs, and tugging them all down, clamps her mouth to Anne’s sex and sucks her clit in between her lips. Anne is enraptured. How swiftly, how expertly she manipulates her clit, how her tongue darts along her folds, how exquisite the pleasure is, as it courses through her veins. Anne’s hands are tangled in her girls curls, holding her head when she needs her the most. In response, her girl moans, the vibrations of her moan hitting Anne deep inside. Anne knows her climax is within reach, and with just one more suck on her clit, she comes. Ann lapping greedily, Anne’s cum all over her nose, chin, and lips. She stands, and they kiss again, Anne tasting herself on her girl’s lips.</p><p>“You will be the death of me” smiles Anne, gazing into her girls eyes. </p><p>“Not if you slay me first” Ann giggles, her hands automatically reaching under Anne’s shirt to paw at her stomach. </p><p>Anne, serious for a moment looks at Ann, holds Ann’s head under her chin, tilting it so Ann knows to look at her.</p><p>“I never normally let anyone touch me the way I allow you to, you know”</p><p>“I should hope not, too” laughs Ann. “I don’t want anyone to touch you the way I touch you. I don’t want you to ever touch anyone else the way you touch me. Can you promise me that? That you won’t? That I’m enough?”</p><p>“You, my darling girl, are more than enough”</p><p> “So you won’t then? When you aren’t here with me, I worry”</p><p>“Worry about what?”</p><p>“That you are with someone else”</p><p>“Oh, no, no, no! Hannah, there is no one else. Only you. Believe me”</p><p>Ann leans in for Anne to kiss her, smiling as she does so. She hopes Anne is telling her the truth.<br/>
Anne smiles, there is no one else. Not now, and why would there be? Anne feels as though they are starting to fall into a rhythm when they’re having sex. She feels that her little blonde is already attached to her, and she feels that she is becoming increasingly attached to her little Hannah.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Hnng</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Final part of a very long chapter - More time in the archives.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, here we go! Smut central for the next couple of chapters, methinks!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anne catches Ann’s hand, their fingers entwined, and they walk to the desk across the room. Anne sits down at the table, as Ann goes to turn the computer on in the corner.</p><p>“So, diaries?” Anne starts.</p><p>“Yes! One of your great great great aunts. She had the same name as you. And there is a newspaper article, which I think you are going to love!”</p><p>“Really? Why?” </p><p>“It’s her obituary. She was a mountaineer!”</p><p>“Good lord, really?” Ann hands her a copy of the article. Anne scans it, a huge smile on her face. </p><p>“And she died abroad! I knew I came from good stock!” Anne laughs. She grabs Ann's hand. Ann smiling. She knew she would love this. She just wants to find the French article for Anne, but for that she needs the computer.</p><p>Anne watches as Ann is trying to get the computer in the room to work. It hasn’t been on for a while, she explains without turning to look at her. Anne knows that she should offer to help, but she is mesmerised by her girl's arse. It wiggles as she slightly bends over, as she moves. Her girl’s legs, as her chiffon skirt rolls up her soft thighs. Anne knows she has lost control. She fixates on the damp patch on the back of the girls dress. She bends over more fully now, her legs part ever so slightly as she looks to plug some wire in that had previously been loose. Anne draws her eyes over her girl’s inner thighs. Hannah is constantly wet. She smiles as she thinks about that. She is deliciously eager, Anne thinks with a smirk. Anne can feel her heat build, as she keeps her eyes trained on her girl’s arse, her thighs, and the moisture that she can see, thinking about the hot wetness that is just out of view.  </p><p>Anne gets out of her chair, drops to the floor, and crawls on her hands and knees, stopping just behind Ann where she is stood. Anne’s voice startles them both, as it drips thickly with desire. </p><p>“Hannah. I don’t want you to move. I want you to stay perfectly still”</p><p>Ann is frozen to the spot. And is now tremendously aroused. She has no idea what Anne is about to do with her, but the suspense is driving her wild. Anne begins just below the knee, tracing her tongue up her girls inner thigh. She gets to just above her knee, and she parts her girls legs, hands in between her knees, pushing them apart. Ann is trembling, her legs quivering like those of a baby deer. Anne scolds her. </p><p>“Now, Hannah! You are far too excited! And what happens to girls who get excited too soon?” she asks. Ann mumbles, she doesn’t know. Can’t function well enough to speak. </p><p>“You will cum too soon!” exclaims Anne “And if you cum for me every time I touch you, you will make me lazy!” Anne scolds her lover. “You, my dear girl, should be making me beg to touch you. Beg to drink from you. But don’t think me ungrateful. Do you want me to show you how grateful I am that you are always so wet and ready for me?”</p><p>Ann can’t answer. She hears the comment about drinking from her, which makes her wetness renew. She emits a deep, rumbling moan from within her chest, as she feels it trickle from her, and cool in the dip of her thighs. </p><p>“Hnng!”</p><p>Anne moves upwards - first one leg, then the next, licking the girls inner thighs, until she gets to her knickers. Delicate white lace, transparent, revealing immaculate creamy skin and tight golden curls beneath. Anne is becoming addicted to the scent of her lover’s arousal. One touch between her legs shows Anne just how wet her knickers are. No further invitation is required, as she slowly began to drag the girl’s knickers off with her teeth, helping them on their way with her fingers. Anne encourages her to step out of them, carefully. The girl can barely balance. Anne folds the fine lace panties in her hand, and swiftly pockets them. </p><p>Ann bends over the computer desk, squirming, panting so loudly that the vibrations of her exhale seemed to be transmitting directly to Anne's clit. Anne is now unbearably aroused, her mouth millimetres away from Ann’s aching vagina, preparing to take her with her tongue from behind.</p><p>The first lick, from just below the clit through to the perineum forces a tremendous, low groan from Ann. Anne adores how her little blonde lover tastes. Her sweet musky scent, her slick wetness now coating Anne’s lips and tongue. The next swipe of Anne's tongue took in her entrance, swirling around it from behind. This has Ann rutting hard, panting, mewling, wordless communication letting her lover know how ready she is.</p><p>Anne gripped her girl’s hips, and swipes her tongue firmly over her clit, the girl shoots forward, momentarily losing contact with Anne's mouth. Anne pulls her back, sinking her rigid tongue into her, pulling back slowly, and thrusting in again. Ann is howling, breathless gasps, the sounds she makes only heightening Anne's desire for her. Increasing the need she has to fuck her for as long as possible. She moves her tongue to her clit, pressing hard, the girl trying to wiggle away from her iron grip. She thrusts her tongue into her girl again, swirling it around the entrance, finding her wetter than before. She brushes her anus, considers taking both holes, but decides against it. She will save that for later. </p><p>Ann is on the brink of her climax, sweat covering her forehead, her back, slumped over the desk, chest heaving. Anne pulls back, gets up and stands behind her. Anne sighs, stretches, and shakes her head. She can’t believe what she is doing, what this girl is making her do. She presses her girl to the desk with one hand in the centre of her back, the other hand is moving through those delicious wet folds, her agile fingers finding her entrance with ease. First one, then two fingers fuck Ann from behind, stretching her, filling her. Her arousal now pouring from her, coating Anne's hand. Anne feels her girl’s walls tightening. As she thrusts harder, a cry goes out from Ann. Anne pushes her hand into Ann's hair, close to the scalp, and pulls Ann's head up. She wants her to be more upright, only leaning forwards when she comes. Anne knows that if she can stand, if only to start with, it will make the experience more intense. Anne demands that Ann look up. Ann does so, but weakly, her mouth slack, eyes unfocused. 

Ann finds that her head is wrenched up, as Anne forces herself deeper inside her, her swollen cunt sucking at Anne’s fingers, as she twists her hand and her fingers slip in a little deeper. 

Ann's breathing become erratic, gasping, panting, mewling, drenched in sweat. Her core so very wet, and now very so wide. </p><p>Knowing that it’s Anne Lister who has put her in this state adds an additional frisson of excitement for Ann. She loves how Anne fucks her. It feels better than she ever dreamed of, having Anne inside her. When she comes, her legs collapse beneath her, her body slumped forwards, the guttural cry that tears out of her chest calling an end to Anne's expert attention. </p><p>Anne drops to her knees again, lapping at the girl’s hole, drinking her cum, finding she still has to hold the girl down against the desk to do so, as she twitches so much. Ann is groaning, the sound so beautifully debauched, it feels Anne with joy. As her tongue laps away, she finds her girl’s entrance overflowing with arousal once more. She gasps:</p><p>“You are utterly insatiable”</p><p>Ann’s breath is catching in her throat. Ann’s tight little hole is still hungry for Anne, and all too soon, she is ready to be filled again. Anne takes pity on her, and also on her own knees which aren't as happy to kneel on a hard floor as they once were. She pulls out, to her girl’s outraged grunt, and stands again. She manoeuvres her girl, turning her over, sliding her up onto the wide table in the centre of the room on her back. Ann simply let's her, no energy to move of her own accord at all, other than her grasping hands reaching for Anne, pulling Anne down over her. </p><p>"I need to feel your weight on me, lay on me"</p><p>Ann whines, and Anne takes her trousers and her briefs off, climbs onto the table and obliges, her shirt opened to the waist, falling in between Ann's legs, finding her girl's ankles instantly lock at the small of her back, her hips rolling into the girl's wide open core, grinding into her so hard that Anne knows she will cum like this. She keeps pushing, harder, the girl crying out, incoherent noises, gasping for air. She bites and licks Ann’s breasts, pulling at a nipple through the thin fabric of her dress. She can’t get enough of this girl, her desire for her can never be sated. Anne’s orgasm surprises them both. Ann can feel Anne's cum soak her mound, running down to her clit, her lips, into her open folds, her waiting vagina. Ann is awestruck. The sensation like nothing else. She cries out:</p><p>“Oh! I felt you come, oh God, I felt you cum inside me, Anne. I can feel it”</p><p>She drags Anne by the back of her head, both hands entwined in her dark glossy hair, and pulls her to her lips. Anne’s kiss is soft and languid, but Ann is on fire. She ruts and mewls, in an attempt to force Anne to pacify her by fucking her again. Anne’s second orgasm has levelled her, and she is now boneless, shattered, but she knows she cannot leave her girl frustrated. She reaches between them, pushing two fingers into her hot, demanding hole, Ann meeting each thrust with another of her own. Anne smiles at the thrashing, screaming girl beneath her, she leans down closer to her neck, and after thrusting into her hard, and scrapes her teeth down the column of the girl’s immaculate throat. Ann cums, screaming Anne’s name. Anne kisses her neck, her breasts, open mouthed. Clawing, scratching, mewling like a hell cat, Anne watches Ann cum, and continues to watch her lovingly as her breathing stabilises, their passion spent, but their need for one another remains.</p><p>It takes a moment for Ann to return to earth. She gazes up at her lover with absolute adoration. Anne Lister is a God. She has never desired someone as much as she desires Anne, and now she really can have her, she can never have enough of her. She strokes Anne’s face as she gazes at her in return. Ann is convinced that the clock must have stopped. What time is it? She looks across, 1:25pm. Her colleagues will be back in minutes. Anne rises slowly, stretches again. </p><p>“Well, my darling, I am afraid you have broken me. I am not sure if I can move!” </p><p>Ann laughs. As she closes her legs, to slide off of the table, she feels as though she has been ripped in half. </p><p>“Sore?”</p><p>“Yes”</p><p>“I am sorry” Anne kisses her head affectionately. Ann grips onto her hands, as they cup her face. 
She wants to tell Anne she loves her, but knows that it’s too soon. It’s enough that she has got Anne to say that there is no one else. She just needs to make sure that she can maintain Anne’s interest. She just needs to go back in time, and tell Anne her real name when she was asked it. </p><p>“Well, it seems that that diary is going straight back to your vaults! We appear to be out of time” Anne says, with a smile as she pulls her briefs and trousers back on, smoothing her shirt down, tucking it in. </p><p>“Actually, I booked you two hours for today. If you can stay, you can still see it?”</p><p>“Now, that was a good idea. Am I to get used to you always being better prepared than I am?” Anne is looking at her with a huge smile on her face. </p><p>“Oh yes. I think you probably should” Ann smiles, bashful. </p><p>Anne, now fully dressed and looking as sharp as she had when she first arrived, holds Ann in her arms. They stand together for a few moments, and the tenderness of the moment affects Ann so much that she cries a little. Anne brushes the tears from her cheek, following each with a kiss as light as a feather. Ann’s mind drifts to her dress. It looks terrible. Creased, stained. It’s soaked in both their body fluids. It smells of sex. It doesn’t just need to be dry cleaned before it is returned to Catherine, it needs burning. And she has to work for the rest of the afternoon in it. Next time they meet, she will bring a change of clothes. </p><p>“First, let’s have a look at that French newspaper article you wanted to show me, see if I can’t get that computer working”</p><p>Anne starts to switch the cables around at the back of the monitor, and the machine springs to life. Ann starts to look for the article under the code she had scanned. Anne watching her. </p><p>“What time do you finish work tomorrow?”</p><p>“On Friday? Usually at 5pm, but this week we have a staff meeting. Well, a get together. Someone is leaving, and we are having a little party. I will want to be away for 7, though. Why?” Ann is hopeful.

“I want to take you out. Book a table in a restaurant. What do you think?”</p><p>“Oh, not a restaurant” Ann is terrified someone will see her, and call her by her real name. </p><p>“Ah, ok. Perhaps just a few drinks?”</p><p>“Erm, no. I can’t do that, but you have a car, don’t you?”</p><p>“Yes” Anne is feeling guarded now. Hannah doesn’t want to have a meal out with her. Doesn’t want to be seen in a bar with her, so it would seem. Anne has been here before.</p><p>“Well, we could go for a drive?”</p><p>“A drive? In the dark?” </p><p>“Yes” and Anne flashes her a smile, that as much as she is hurt that Hannah doesn’t want to be seen with her, still manages to melt Anne. If this is just sex, well, the sex is great. </p><p>“Ok. I will collect you from here at 7 sharp!”</p><p>"Anne" Ann asks quietly "Are you going to give me my knickers back?"</p><p>"No" Anne replies, with a smirk.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Friday Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anne and Ann muse over their budding relationship, and both decide that it can't really have a future.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another overly long chapter that I have had to slice up. Here is the first part. Let me know your thoughts! Comments are so useful!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As soon as Ann got back from work, she ran herself a bath. Stripping Catherine’s ruined dress off, she turned it around a few times to inspect the damage. No, she really couldn’t return it. Dry cleaning might work, but she would be too embarrassed to take it in. Watermark stains littered the front, with a single large watermark stain at the rear. It wouldn’t take much imagination to work out what had caused them. She will ask Catherine where she bought it, and replace it. </p><p>Catching her reflection in the mirror, she saw the numerous small bruises around her collarbone, along the inside of her thighs, over her hips. Little medals. Awarded for what, she wasn’t sure. For being in service to Anne Lister? She smiled. She would do anything Anne asked, Ann thought. Anything at all. Anne Lister wouldn’t feel the same way about shy Miss Walker, however. Ann knew that Anne’s aunt and Eliza Priestley had both been on at Anne to visit her, and she hadn’t even sent her a note or made a phone call. Anne felt that way about Hannah, the girl who dressed for work how Catherine dressed to go to a club. The girl who would drop to her knees at a moments’ notice. The girl whose knickers end up in her lovers’ trouser pocket. That was the girl Anne had promised to be faithful to. Ann couldn’t really be like that. Couldn’t do those things. Not all the time, at least.</p><p>In the bath, she was finally able to relieve the burning between her legs, and wash off the smell of sex that had clung to her since lunch time. She had had to spend the rest of the afternoon wearing a damp dress, reeking of Anne’s cologne, sweat, most of it not hers, and other various bodily fluids, and without her knickers. Ann was used to wearing not only knickers but also opaque tights to work. Today, she was bare legged. She moved from her desk as little as was possible, no matter how uncomfortable it was for her to remain seated. She never spoke to anyone, and no one had spoken to her. She had received some very curious looks, however. She would be the subject of gossip in the office now, so little ever happened there. As long as she still had Anne, she didn’t care if they gossiped about her. None of them mattered.</p><p>Catherine was on the phone almost as soon as Ann was dried and in her pyjamas. She was determined that Ann would tell her all, but Ann held back. Her love life was private. The idea that Catherine shouldn’t be told just how intense and passionate her love life was, was spoiled by Ann having to ask where she could replace the dress. </p><p>“Oh my days! Ann!!! What on earth were you doing in it? No! Don’t tell me! I don’t want to know!”</p><p>Ann almost lies, and tells Catherine that it had been ripped, but that sounds just as bad. So she remained quiet on the subject, until Catherine told her to meet her tomorrow lunchtime at a shop in town. Where they should be able to buy a new dress, plus Ann can buy something for herself so she can stop borrowing (and spoiling!) Catherine’s stuff. She agrees.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t until she got in the shower that Anne Lister realised just how badly her back had been scratched by Hannah. As the water hit, the red welts stung, making Anne wince. She couldn’t recall the last time she had been with a girl who was both as responsive, and demonstrative. Or as loud! Good heavens, Anne could scarcely believe the utterly filthy sounds that came out of such a delicate little thing. Anne wondered about the promise Hannah had forced her to make. That Hannah would be enough. Good Lord, Anne laughed to herself. She wasn’t just enough, she was too much. </p><p>But now, she was paying for it all. She ached everywhere. She smiled. She wasn’t used to having so much sex, not these days. She wasn’t certain she could carry on like this, either. What was she thinking of, getting in so deep with a girl so much younger? A girl who was perpetually wet, whose legs were easily spread. A girl who she simply could not satisfy, no matter what she did, or how hard she tried. Anne wondered how long she would be able to retain her interest. How long it would be before Hannah wanted a man again. How confident and open to everything she was showed her experience, and Anne didn’t think she had got that with women. Anne wondered about wearing a strap next time? Wondered how Hannah would feel about that? If the last few times they had met were anything to go by, Hannah would most likely be eager to try it. She seemed eager to try everything else. </p><p>Friday morning saw another building firm coming to see the cottages, and to quote for the work. Anne was going to go up in jeans, but she decided to get dressed properly. Black trousers with a black blazer. Black dress shirt and cuff links. She looked at her trousers from yesterday. They desperately needed dropping off at a dry cleaners. She bagged them up, ready to go in the car with her. She would drop them off after seeing the work men, then head off to see Mrs Rawson. Say hello, catch up, and find out if it was her granddaughter who had been out with Hannah on the afternoon she had first met her. Hannah was quite a conundrum, and finding out more about her would make things a little clearer. She was intrigued to know how she knew the Rawson’s, because Hannah seemed to know more about her than she had revealed. Anne wondered what the Rawson girl had been saying to Hannah about her. She had wondered about Hannah, and how she knew Anne’s name before she told her. She had thought that Hannah had used it the first time they had sex, but in the moment she had decided that it was just noise, and not ‘Anne’ at all. This, coupled with Hannah knowing she had a car, and her being convinced that she would be sleeping with others as well convinces Anne she has been spoken about. She hopes Hannah doesn’t think she has any money. She had had girls chase after her before thinking she was well off and, that she would be able to keep them. Her mind drifted to Vere as a case in point. Not to mention that Hannah had refused to go on a date with her, embarrassed to be seen with her. Anne can’t go there again, for her own sanity. Yet it was Hannah who had kissed her in a bar filled with people, with the sort of passion and urgency that suggested she would have been willing to go much further. Curious. She will get to the bottom of this, she thinks. She always does.</p><p> </p><p>When Friday arrives, Ann finds her nerves are getting the better of her. She is hours away from what ought to have been a dinner date with Anne Lister, but what has now been downgraded, at her request, to a drive after work. And what could they possibly do in a car, in the dark, when they’re not actually going anywhere? Ann knows that Anne has a dark green Jag, with cream leather seats. She spends the morning filing new documents in the archives. Registering them, recording them, copying the ones she can copy, and preparing them to be appropriately stored long term. All the while, day dreaming about how those leather seats will feel under her naked back. She cannot wait to have Anne Lister on top of her, and inside of her, again. Whatever outfit she buys today must be easy to remove.</p><p>Catherine meets her at 12.40pm, outside the dress shop she had bought the blue chiffon from. They still had one in the window, so that boded well. When they went in to ask, it seemed that the one in the window was a larger size, but that they had her size in another store. Within ten minutes, the assistant had located the dress, and Ann had paid for it to be posted out to Catherine’s home. Ann was relieved that she had been able to replace it. Catherine had been nothing but supportive, and she had felt bad about what had happened to that dress in her care. </p><p>Ann looks at the racks of evening wear, of club wear, of what the shop assistant terms day wear, but is so dressy, so revealing, that Ann would feel awkward wearing them out on the town. She chooses a green wrap dress. It's fitted, it's elegant, it had a deep neckline displaying her breasts to a fine advantage, and it comes undone with just a single ribbon at the waist. On a roll, she also buys black stilettos and a black bustier set with frilly, lacy knickers. Catherine is gobsmacked at her choices.</p><p>Catherine has a grin on her face every time she looks at Ann, and keeps saying how she had no idea that Ann had it in her. That the quietest were the worst. That Ann needed to be careful around Anne Lister. That she was only ever after one thing, and once the interest was gone, then she would be gone. That Anne Lister got bored easily, and that Ann shouldn’t get too attached, and just enjoy it for what it was. Ann didn’t really chip in with anything. She didn’t have much to add. She had been thinking of how to tell Anne who she was tonight, but what Catherine says convinces her that this isn’t the best plan of action. </p><p>Ann will just enjoy what they have, for as long as it’s available to her. No point hastening the demise of their relationship by announcing that she is actually already known to Anne as a fragile, mentally defective girl with an attachment disorder bought on by years of loss. What would Anne Lister do with such a girl? She certainly wouldn’t want to take her to dinner. She probably wouldn’t be overly interested in taking her on the back seat of her car either. No. Hannah was best sticking around. Just as long as Anne doesn’t want to talk. Ann isn’t sure she can talk as confidently as she feels Hannah would. Ann smiles. Anne won’t want to talk. She never has done before. </p><p> </p><p>Anne drives up to Mrs Rawson’s home just after lunch. Nellie is thrilled to see her, having stayed in touch whilst Anne was living in Paris and in Brighton. Nellie Rawson had taken to Anne years ago, when she was just a school girl. Being bolshie, arrogant and aloof were all exceptional qualities in Nellie Rawson’s eyes. She had raised five children, all around the same age as Anne, herself. All of them were now in senior positions at work, her eldest son a banker, and the youngest a detective in the local police. She had raised her kids to aspire to gain the sorts of qualities that Anne Lister had in her naturally. Nellie adored her, and often poked fun at her sons when they were boys that they weren’t as bright, weren’t as driven, weren’t as well educated, as Anne Lister was. She still did from time to time. It was important that they kept on their toes. Complacency is what will lose you your position at work. It’s what will lose you your wife or your girlfriend. Her kids grew up learning that. Anne Lister simply innately knew these things.</p><p>When Anne first arrives, the two hug for a good long while. Nellie has been in bad health, she reveals. Half wondered if she might not see Anne again. This news is a shock to Anne. Promises to visit more. Nellie wants to know all about Paris, mountaineering and Miss Walker. Not necessarily in that order. </p><p>Her granddaughter had said that she was seeing Miss Ann Walker these days?</p><p> </p><p>“Erm, no? Eliza has been asking me to go over to visit, though”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Catherine said that you had met her in a bar. She said that Ann was quite tight lipped about it all, too. As it seems you are? What are you hiding?”</p><p> </p><p>“Me? No, nothing to hide. I'm just surprised. I honestly have no idea what Catherine must mean”</p><p> </p><p>“You could do a lot worse, you know! But who am I to tell you what you want, eh? She certainly wants you. Catherine certainly seems to think so at any rate, and they're very close those two. Thick as thieves”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I'm not sure about that. Seriously, we haven't met in 10 years. I did meet a girl last week, though. She’s called Hannah, and I thought that one of her friends was one of your granddaughters”</p><p> </p><p>“Why did you think she was one of mine?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because she looked like I imagine you would have done at 25, in a skin tight dress”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I hoped she looked fantastic in that case, because I bloody well did in my day!” Laughs Mrs Rawson.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh she did. Quite the little glamour queen. Do you have a photo of Catherine? I will know straight away if it’s Hannah’s friend. I never forget a face”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I bet you don’t forget pretty girls! Oh, and she is pretty, our Catherine” Nellie is rooting about through a large photo album she has picked up from underneath the coffee table. “Oh! There she is!”</p><p>And Mrs Rawson shows Anne a photo of the girl from Nest. Catherine Rawson.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Emerald Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anne collects 'Hannah' after work, and they drive off on their date.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All of this is taking far too long to organise into a coherent structure. I can't imagine why!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ann knew she wouldn't stay at the party longer than an hour. She had to change into her dress, and that couldn't be done at work without someone seeing, so she had always planned to leave early. She could go to a bar, have one drink and get changed in the toilets. She managed 20 minutes before she just couldn't stand the company of her colleagues. This left her an hour and a half in Nest, even after getting changed. She started with a cocktail. Then she moved on to the artisan gin menu. When her phone alarm went off at 6.50pm, she had polished off two cocktails and 4 double gins. Having had nothing to eat at lunch, due to meeting Catherine, Ann was drunk. Possibly even more so than she had been when she first met Anne. </p><p>Walking round the corner to the library and archives carpark, she sees the green Jaguar straight away. She wanted to run over, but knew that was impossible in heels. She walked as upright as she could manage. She could see that Anne was watching her approach. When she was almost there, the driver's door was thrown open and Anne jumped out, and strode towards her, with a huge grin. </p><p>"Good Lord! Aren't you a vision of loveliness?"</p><p>"Thank you!"</p><p>Ann leans in to kiss her, Anne deepens the kiss immediately. Ann can feel herself become unbearably hot, her skin pricking all over. She presses herself against Anne, her hands roaming under Anne's jacket, up her back, and down to pull at her shirt. Once enough was free, Ann had her hands on Anne's bare skin, moaning into her mouth as they kissed. Anne is the first to pull back, lightheaded and aroused. At this rate they won't get out of the carpark. </p><p>Ann, breathless, smiles. </p><p>"I want you in the worst way. I've thought about you all day" Her hand traces shapes over Anne's stomach, and down to her waistband and fly "Can you tell?"</p><p>"Let's get you in the car, shall we?"</p><p>Anne guides her into the passenger seat, and walks back around to get back into the driver's seat. </p><p>"So, where to, my lady?"</p><p>"I don't know. Anywhere! Where do you want to go? Beacon Hill?" Ann can envisage kissing Anne, looking over Halifax as the sun sets. That would be lovely. For starters. </p><p>"Ok, belt on?" Ann starts to buckle herself in. "Beacon Hill then!" And the car starts to move out of the car park, and joins the road. </p><p>"Did you get out to kiss me? Or to help me into the car?" Curious.</p><p>"Both, my dear. Are you well? I take it the party was good?"</p><p>"No!" Ann declares, ebullient "it was dreadful! I went to Nest!"</p><p>"Ah" replies Anne. So, Hannah had left work earlier, and had been drinking before they met. Just not with her.<br/>
"And who did you go there with?" She tries to sound nonchalant. Ann misses the tension. Gin can do that to a person. </p><p>"No one. I just needed to change out of my work clothes, and I also needed some Dutch courage" Ann admitted.</p><p>"Why do you need Dutch courage?"</p><p>Ann starts to creep across in her seat, unlocking her belt. Leaning over the console, stroking Anne's abs through the gaps in her shirt. </p><p>"I've been thinking how I wish I could do what straight girls get to do to their lovers. I want to go down on you, right now" Ann starts to undo Anne's fly, as she is driving. </p><p>"Hannah, stop that" she's laughing, but she means it "it's dangerous, you'll make me lose control"</p><p>"I want you to lose control" Ann whispers in her ear, forcing her hand down the front of Anne's knickers, now revealed after Ann had undone her belt, button and fly.</p><p>"I'll lose control of the car! Hannah!" Ann had found her clit, and was trying to concentrate as hard as was possible through a head full of gin, keeping a gentle, light, but incessant circling motion. </p><p>Anne starts trying to ignore what her girl is doing to her. She had been thinking about Hannah all day, about what might happen this evening, what Hannah might want to do, but she hadn't considered that she would try to get her off before they'd even left the town centre. </p><p>"You need to be careful, getting me worked up like this"</p><p>It was impossible to ignore the fire that her little blonde was stoking within her. Anne's voice became thick, her breathing erratic. Hearing this thrilled Ann. She licked Anne's neck, nipping her skin lightly, sucking behind her ear, and she started to press a little harder on Anne's clit as she rubbed it in decreasing circles.</p><p>"I want you worked up. I can't wait for you for fuck me" Ann husked in Anne's ear. "I've been thinking about how it feels when you're inside me all day"</p><p>Anne is breathing unsteadily, in through her nose and out in gasps through her mouth. Her legs start to quiver, which worries her, as she needs her left leg for the clutch. Stopping at a junction on a hill, heading up to Beacon Hill, she stalls the car. Her girls fingers stroking her into what threatens to be a mind blowing orgasm. Anne keeps trying to find the biting point, but it's no good. The smell of burning rubber fills the car. </p><p>"Hannah! Please!"</p><p>Her pleas are empty, ignored by Ann. Ann has never felt so aroused, so powerful. She knows that she has bought Anne Lister to the very edge. Her body out of her control, her mind addled. Ann continues to circle, amazed at just how wet Anne is. Almost as wet as she is. Her mouth caresses the length of her lovers throat, open mouthed, teeth scraping how Ann likes it herself. The effect on Anne is to suddenly spur into action, and the car moves forward, the speed increasing as she turns up a narrow steep lane, the car engine roaring, Anne's breathing as erratic as ever. Gasps leaving her throat. Ann pushing her hand down as far as she can manage, sweeping up her arousal, rubbing Anne's clit harder still. The noises coming from Anne creating an inferno in her core. They're in open countryside, Halifax beneath them, breaking the speed limit, Ann only focused on Anne. </p><p>Anne pulls the car round a corner, and down a country lane. She turns again, up a dirt track. Once she feels she is off the road enough, she pulls the car over, and pulls the handbrake. As she does so she allows her feet to slide off of the peddles, her legs spread, groaning loudly as she cums. Ann leans across the console, and lands astride Anne's lap. Her arms encircle her neck, kissing Anne passionately, and smiling. She has completely undone Anne Lister. After years of wanting her, she is hers, to do with as she pleases. Ann has never felt more confident. As she stokes Anne's head, her hair, she's never felt more in love.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. You've astonished me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ann gets carried away.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for your comments! They mean so much x Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You've astonished me. What on earth did you think you were up to?"</p><p>"I thought I was showing you how much I've missed you. How much I want you"</p><p>Ann kisses Anne again, her hands in her hair. She shuffles in Anne's lap. Her wrap dress has been pulled open from the waist, fabric twisted under one knee. She pulls at it to free it. There is no space at all, the steering wheel digging into her back. </p><p>"Push the seat back, darling"</p><p>Anne reaches down to pull the lever. It's awkward, and when she pulls, the seat flies back sharp. Ann is rocked into Anne's stomach. Ann gasps. Anne holds her by her thighs, her hands rubbing up the back of Ann's thighs slowly, and back down again, over and over. Ann is kissing her desperately. Anne reaches up in between her thighs, feels a thin strip of fabric, sodden. Her girls hot, swollen moist flesh overlapping the sides. Anne begins to stoke along the strip, Ann's breath catching in her throat as Anne strokes her entrance, building up the arousal there, cupping her, pressing, then stroking alternately. Ann is rocking in her lap, the kissing becoming more heated. Anne slides her finger behind the fabric, continuing the action as before, but now on her girls bare flesh. Her folds dripping onto her hand as Anne strokes through to her entrance. Ann is shaking, moaning, her head thrown back, rutting in her lap. Anne licks along her breasts, above the cups of her bustier. Takes one hand from her thigh, and plunges into the cup, drawing one of Ann's large, pillowy breasts from it's cover. Anne finds the nipple, sucking at it as she penetrates her panting, squirming, gasping lover, and begins to fuck her with two fingers, fast and hard. </p><p>Ann grips onto Anne's shoulders, her head filled with star dust. Ann knows that this is it for her. Anne is all she has ever wanted. She has never really wanted anyone else. She's in love with her. She always has been. </p><p>Anne is stunned by the things now coming out of Hannah's mouth. Not the perverse platitudes of earlier, Hannah is now whispering how Anne is all she has ever wanted. That she loves her, and always has. Her tone is even, clear, honest. Anne kisses her, consuming her words before Hannah had chance to say them. Anne doesn't want to hear such things. It makes her uncomfortable. </p><p>Anne wants this to end. She pulls back, and catching Hannah's ear, she begins to growl how hot, how swollen, how tight Hannah feels. How she loves to hear her scream her name, that she wanted Hannah to cum, and cum now. So, she did.</p><p>Ann is shaking all over, her hands grasping in Anne's hair, her legs spasming, gripping onto Anne. Her core quivering under Anne's hand. Ann feels as though she cannot get enough air, gasping, pulling herself closer to Anne, her arms now tight around her neck. Crying into her hair how much she loves her. Calling Anne's name, and telling her that she is the only one who has ever had her like this. The only one who ever would. Ann doesn't notice that Anne is frozen beneath her. She clings to her lovers rigid body, regardless.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Venus and Mars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anne and Ann continue their date in the hills above Halifax. </p><p>So! Chapter 18! Or The One Where Anne Lister bangs Ann Walker on the bonnet of her car. Enjoy!</p><p>Seriously, 7000 words that are NSFW!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for your comments and feedback.</p><p>I would like to thank Verse Top for their comment re Anne Lister being a magician. Well, I stole it! Hope you enjoy!</p><p>All comments are read, and each inspires me to keep on, so thank you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hannah’s head is resting on Anne’s shoulder. Her breathing heavy in Anne’s ear, slowly returning to normal. Anne can’t breathe. Can’t think straight. The things Hannah was saying. What on earth was happening? Anne thinks about what Mrs Rawson had said about Catherine, and Ann Walker. Was Hannah actually Ann Walker? </p><p>Anne moves the girls head up, to get a better look at her face. She doesn’t look much like Ann Walker, as she remembered her. Hannah opens her eyes, and smiles at Anne. Anne melts. Then stops herself. She coughs. </p><p>“Ahem! Ah, well, that was, er, something, wasn’t it? Ah. Shall we, erm, go outside? Check if we can be seen from the road?” Anne knows that they can’t. She just needs Hannah to get off of her. She needs air. </p><p> </p><p>Hannah leans in, begins to kiss Anne again. Quickly deepening it, mewling into it, her hands running across Anne’s shoulders, her back, down her arms. Taking Anne’s hands, and placing them on her breasts. </p><p> </p><p>“Hannah!” Anne can’t get away from the girl, suddenly the interior of her enormous Jaguar is way too small. </p><p> </p><p>“Anne!” Hannah stops, and pouts. “I couldn't wait to see you, you know. I’ve been counting the hours”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok. I’m sorry, but I really need to get out of the car” Anne is smiling, but she is getting desperate for air. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, but only because you asked nicely. You get me so hot, I’m sorry” Hannah leans in, and kisses her lightly on the lips. Anne opens the car door, and Hannah stumbles out, losing a shoe in the foot well in the process. Anne is stunned at how drunk she seems to be. Was she this drunk earlier? She too gets out. Takes a huge breath in. Zips up her fly, adjusts her shirt, smoothing it down. </p><p> </p><p>Ann takes her remaining shoe off, and starts dancing by herself to her own tune on the grass. She feels elated. She has made Anne come, so she feels that she is in with a chance of keeping her interested, at least for a while longer. What Ann had said in the throes, she meant. Anne is all she has ever really wanted, she just couldn’t bear to lose her now. </p><p> </p><p>She looks around. No, you can’t see the road from here. Can’t see much of anything. The lights below showing the expanse of Halifax. Ann isn’t sure where they are, but it feels remote. It’s deadly quiet, and the light is fast falling out of the sky. It will be pitch black out here soon. She doesn’t have much time for what she wants to do next. </p><p> </p><p>Hannah comes trotting up, giggling to herself, and grasps Anne’s hands, spinning her around. Anne lets her. She is feeling increasingly calm, but she knows she has to speak to Hannah. About a lot of things, it would seem. Firstly, she can’t go around telling people like Catherine Rawson that they’re sleeping together. Anne doesn’t want to hear about her sex life when she visits Mrs Rawson, it’s embarrassing. Secondly, she wants to make sure that Hannah doesn’t really believe that she is in love with her. That is something she just could not deal with right now. This is supposed to be casual. It’s supposed to be fun. They haven’t even swapped phone numbers. Hannah has never once asked her for hers. Anne doesn’t even know her surname. It just didn’t seem important. Then Anne remembers. Hannah would rather drink in a bar on her own (allegedly) than share a drink or a meal with Anne. What Hannah had said, she probably doesn’t even remember. Anne smiles. A weight lifted, somewhat. Hannah has a mischievous glint in her eye. </p><p> </p><p>Ann starts to pull Anne back towards the car, getting her to perch at the front on the car bonnet. Anne sits down, laughing. </p><p> </p><p>“What now?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to dance for you” Says Ann, in as seductive a manner as she can muster. She stands in front of Anne, playing with her jacket lapels, gazing into her eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, are you? And what sort of dance?”</p><p> </p><p>“A lap dance” grins Ann.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah – Ok! Here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yesssss! Who would see us?”</p><p> </p><p>“Very true. Won’t you get cold?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I’ll be dancing” Anne is grinning at her. “Hey! I said that I was going to do a lap dance for you, not a striptease!”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? I thought the two were the same thing!”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps that says a lot about the places you go to. Or used to go to”</p><p> </p><p>“Used to?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, not anymore. Not now you have me” Ann stands in between Anne’s knees, her hand on one shoulder, her other hand caressing Anne’s cheek. “The real thing. Who’s all yours” Anne leans into her palm, and kisses it. All the while, never breaking eye contact with Ann. </p><p> </p><p>“Hannah, I have never been to such an establishment” Anne states with certainty. Butter wouldn’t melt.</p><p> </p><p>“No, of course you haven’t!” She laughs, her hands on Anne’s knees, spreading her legs further. “Put your hands under your thighs. That will remind you not to touch!”</p><p> </p><p>“I think that’s more your problem than mine” states Anne, drily. </p><p> </p><p>“Rude! Anyways, just do it” her inebriation is showing through, thinks Anne. She should stop her. She doesn’t want to. </p><p> </p><p>Ann rocks backwards, her feet light on the grass, humming to herself. Starting to bounce around a little.</p><p> </p><p>“Anne, do you think of me when we aren't together?”</p><p> </p><p>“I do. I think about you a lot”</p><p> </p><p>“And how do you think about me?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think about your lips, on mine. Your hands”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm. What are they doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re clawing at my back”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm, are they?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, and then there’s my hands-”</p><p> </p><p>“What are they doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“They're on you. All over you. Inside you. But always on you”</p><p> </p><p>Ann holds onto Anne’s collar, pulling her face up to look at her. Their expressions are intense. Barely supressed lust. </p><p> </p><p>“You are a fucking magician, Anne”</p><p> </p><p>“A magician of fucking, or an actual magician?” Anne replies, lowly. </p><p> </p><p>“A magician of sex” Ann giggles. “Is there anything you can’t do?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I think I have most bases covered” replies Anne, faux smug. </p><p> </p><p>“I want you to show me everything you can do. I want you to do what you want with me” Ann is pressing up against Anne, husking in her ear. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, I have bought something with me tonight. Something I purchased today”</p><p> </p><p>After Anne had left Mrs Rawson’s she had google searched for an address, and used her phone to navigate her to the outskirts of Bradford, where she had visited an anonymous roadside sex shop. She had bought a new strap, and it was now waiting for her in the glove compartment. She smiled to herself. Anne isn’t the biggest fan of such artifice, but if that won’t satisfy Hannah, then she has done as much as she can. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh?”</p><p> </p><p>“A strap”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that?” Ann is confused. Such things still very new to her.</p><p> </p><p>“A strap on”</p><p> </p><p>Ann’s eyes widen. “Oh, goodness me!” She laughs, looking at Anne quizzically. Is she joking?</p><p> </p><p>“Only if you want to try it. I bought it for you. Your choice if we ever use it” Anne is desperate to use it, but doesn’t want to push Hannah beyond her comfort zone. </p><p> </p><p>Ann doesn’t know what to say. So she says nothing. A strap on? She is desperate to try it, but feels she cannot say so without seeming man mad. </p><p> </p><p>Anne gets them back on track “What about my striptease?” she enquires, pulling back, never touching Ann. Their eyes locked.</p><p> </p><p>“Not a striptease! A lap dance” </p><p> </p><p>“Would you like some music? I can put the MP3 player on in the car?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! Yes! What have we got?”</p><p> </p><p>Anne gets up, opens the driver’s side and turns the ignition on. Then she turns the MP3 on. It’s Fleetwood Mac, Rhiannon. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh! Leave that on, and get sat down!” Ann rushes her back to the edge of the car bonnet, secures her hands under her thighs, and begins to sway. </p><p> </p><p>Her knee length green wrap dress flows beautifully down her body, and moves gracefully as she dances. The single broad ribbon that holds it together is tied in a bow at her waist, the tails of the ribbon flying down the skirt and whipping in the air as she turns. She is light footed, giggly, and utterly adorable. Her long blonde curls sway in the last of the light. Her breasts perfectly displayed by the low cut dress. Full, ripe and sensuous. Anne is mesmerised. She cannot take her eyes away from the girl’s neck, her breasts. Her hair, her face. Hannah is stunning. Anne feels as though she is in her own porno. This is just fucking amazing. Back home devastated, and within days a girl with fantastic tits who is up for anything is wanting to lap dance for her in the middle of nowhere in the twilight. It might not be quite what she had thought she had wanted, but it will do for now. </p><p> </p><p>Ann feels amazing! She can feel Anne’s eyes on her, the air around her warm. Fuck it, she thinks. She is going to strip, and then they’re going to have sex again. The ache between her thighs just never fades when she is near Anne. This is better than her fantasies, she thinks. This is really happening. </p><p> </p><p>Moving ever closer to Anne, she puts her hands on Anne’s knees, and leans in close. Arches her back, before leaning back in again. She kisses Anne on the neck as she sways back in to her. She turns. And starts to loosen the ribbon at her waist. She turns again to face Anne, and starts tugging at the ribbon, freeing the knot, opening her dress. </p><p> </p><p>“Good Lord, girl!” Anne is gobsmacked. </p><p> </p><p>“What? I’m not stripping. I have fantastic underwear!” she smiles, and taps the side of her nose as though she’s letting Anne into a secret. She slinks the dress from her shoulders, and dances around a little, revealing her shoulders, her breasts, then the dress is off, but being used as a veil. Hiding and then revealing her legs, her arse, her cleavage. She throws the dress over to Anne, who immediately puts it to her face to smell it. This action makes Ann weak. The aching at her core increasing. She hopes she won’t have long to wait. Standing in front of Anne in her new black bustier and frilly back knickers, she suddenly feels bashful. Her breasts look huge, pushed up high. She wonders if she is sobering up a little. Anne looks at her as though she is about to devour her. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, don’t you want to touch me?”</p><p> </p><p>“You told me I wasn’t allowed” replies Anne, her voice dripping with desire.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you are now”</p><p> </p><p>Ann had barely got her words out, when Anne pulled her towards her, her hands roaming Ann’s thighs, bum, breasts, stomach, hips. She is pulled into a heated kiss, tongue pushing, rubbing, against hers. </p><p> </p><p>“Anne, fuck me”</p><p> </p><p>Anne stands, picks her up in her arms, places her on the car bonnet, pushes her lightly to lie down, and removes the frilly knickers. Ann moving as required to assist her. Anne helps her to scoot back up the bonnet. Anne climbs up there with her. </p><p> </p><p>Anne smiles as she begins to kiss down Ann's breasts, her stomach, heading downwards. Teeth nipping, tongue slavering, breath becoming ragged.</p><p> </p><p>Ann's back starts to arch, Anne sucking at the insides of her thighs, higher and higher.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, God Anne, I want you” Breathless, groaning. “Anne please”</p><p> </p><p>Anne presses the flat of her tongue to Ann's clit, and Ann exhaled loudly. Her hips buck, Anne's hands pin down her hips.</p><p> </p><p>“You really must be quiet. We don’t want to attract the attentions of any dog walkers, now do we?”</p><p> </p><p>“No” Ann husks</p><p> </p><p>“So, you focus on being silent whilst I take you, ok?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yesssss” Ann hisses quietly.</p><p> </p><p>The first swipe of Anne's tongue through her folds, and Ann pushed her fist into her mouth. She wanted to cry out. Her mind was addled by having her lover between her legs, having her strong arms pin her down, having her strong hands grip her by the thigh, holding her in place on the cars bonnet. Her tongue travelling through her sex. Ann lifts her hips very, very slightly, and it's almost enough for Anne's tongue to stoke past her entrance. Ann can feel her orgasm build fast, she is desperate for Anne to enter her. She tries to shift again. Anne releases one hand, and slaps her leg.</p><p> </p><p>“Patience, girl! Patience! And absolute silence. You do understand?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, oh yes I understand” Ann whispers, her tone desperate.</p><p> </p><p>“You wanted a display of my sexual prowess, no?” Anne thrusts two fingers into Anne's dripping core. Licks her clit quickly afterwards, collecting Ann's arousal on her tongue. Nectar. Anne groans herself.</p><p> </p><p>Ann laughs breathlessly. “See. It's not that easy. Oh, oh!” Ann’s climax immediately starts to build at a rapid rate.</p><p> </p><p>Anne keeps up a quickening pace of thrusting and licking. Hannah was wet when they started, but now Anne is struggling to gain purchase on her clit. It’s impossible to find friction when she is so wet. She presses harder with her tongue as she licks her core. Two fingers thrusting in isn’t driving Hannah as wild as it should. Anne pulls back and with both hands, she pushes her two middle fingers, two index fingers, into her girl’s vagina. Widening her, thrusting into her. Hannah is thrashing, mewling loudly into the dark, her arousal spilling from her, pooling beneath her. Anne returns to lapping at her clit, pressing into it, pushing it with the flat of her tongue, circling it with the tip. </p><p> </p><p>When she comes, she cannot be quiet. She drags Anne down over her, as she goes wild beneath her. Kissing Anne with her lips, her teeth, her tongue. Having Anne bite and suck at her neck, her breasts. All the time feeling her moving deep within her. The pace of Anne’s thrusts increasing, dragging the girl’s orgasm out of her, Anne using the depth of their kiss to contain the volume, the sound of her orgasm now vibrating throughout Anne's mouth. This girl is wild for her, and her desperate ferocity for Anne has Anne feeling invincible. She continues stroking her, until Hannah flinches away. </p><p> </p><p>Recovering her breath, Ann lays back, and stares at the stars in the sky. She feels very small, laid out to be devoured on the bonnet of Anne’s Jag. A tiny speck of flesh across the universe. The sky is clear. As Anne rolls off of her, onto the other side of the bonnet, Ann glances to the side, to get a better look at her. She is beautiful in the last of the light. A small glow coming through the windscreen from the interior light illuminates Anne’s cheekbones, her jaw, her brow. Ann feels very grateful to get to share this with her. How they are when they’re having sex with each other. And now, the clear early summer skies, dusted with stars and planets.</p><p> </p><p>Anne is deeply involved in talking with Hannah about the different stars, the solar system, and which planets can be seen this evening. She points out Jupiter. </p><p> </p><p>Ann would have taken it as a star. But no. She is looking at a planet with her bare eyes, at Anne Lister’s enthusiastic request. </p><p> </p><p>“How do they all get their names?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, most are named after Greek and Roman Gods. Jupiter is named after the Roman God of the sky. And of thunder. And, Venus is named after the Roman Goddess of love, who was known for her beauty. She was the goddess of sex, of prosperity” Anne looks directly at Hannah as she says ‘sex’.</p><p> </p><p>“And of victory” Ann says, as she rolls closer, and leans in to kiss Anne “And she had Mars” She kisses Anne again, crawling on top of her “God of war. And virility” Ann, now straddling Anne, giggles. She is pawing at Anne’s shoulders, chest, then up her shirt, wandering over her stomach “I do wonder how that must feel. To be virile” Ann now stroking Anne’s arms, feeling her muscles, staring down at her lustfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Why, what it's like to be beautiful?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, well I don't know that either” Bashful.</p><p> </p><p>“I am fairly certain you do” Anne sits up, and kisses Ann deeply. Ann, saddened when Anne pulls back, pulls her back in. Ann starts to grind down on Anne, moaning into the kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Breathless. “I’m ready. Show me”</p><p> </p><p>“Show you what?” Anne replies in between kisses.</p><p> </p><p>Ann’s arousal, has got the better of her, making her bolder than she would ever normally be.  </p><p> </p><p>“Show me how virile you are. Get the strap”</p><p> </p><p>Anne kisses her, her hands roaming the girl’s body, her breasts, the girl writhing, mewling. Strokes her firmly down her stomach, to her pubis. Continues, in between her legs, stroking through her wet folds. Anne takes a deep breath, awestruck. Hannah is outrageously wet. Delicious.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok. One moment! You stay there!” Anne rolls her off of her, sits, and slides off the bonnet. She opens the passenger door, goes to the glove box, and takes out the harness. She drops her trousers, steps into the harness, and steps back into her trousers. Then she pulls the black strap on out of its box, and attaches it through the loops. She has done this a thousand times, and the whole process takes just a minute or two. She fastens her fly, and climbs back on the car bonnet. Hannah is laid, legs akimbo, gazing as the stars. As Anne moves over her, she wraps her legs around her lover, pulling her in. As soon as Hannah feels the strap under Anne’s trousers she starts to buck and mewl. Her hands claw up Anne’s back, from the small of her back, then up to her shoulders, drawing her down lower. Anne meets her with a kiss, forcing her tongue into her waiting mouth. Hannah starts to grow restless. Wild. Squealing, clawing, moaning, rutting. Desperate to be filled. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, oh Anne! Oh God! It feels so big. Oh God! Will it go in? I don’t think it will, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think it will fit perfectly. I think you will be screaming my name in the next few seconds” Anne laughs lowly. “I think you need this. I think you ought to be fucked deep, and hard, and often. You’re so fucking wet, so hot, so swollen, no wonder you can’t keep your legs closed, you insatiable little tart” And Anne kisses her, sloppily, dragging her lip down in a bite, sucking at her jaw, suckling on her neck. Hannah tries to get her hands in between their bodies, trying to get to Anne’s fly, eager for cock. Anne grabs her wrists, drags them above her head, breathing heavily in her ear.</p><p> </p><p>“I decide when you get my cock. Not you. You need to learn patience. And manners. It’s not good manners to go grabbing for cock, just because your cunt is ravenous. You must wait until my cock is ravenous for cunt”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, hmmm” Ann is rolling against the bulge in Anne’s trousers. She has never felt this aroused. Pinned to the car bonnet, her arms fast above her head, pressed on the windscreen glass. She doesn’t know what she should do to encourage Anne, so she wonders about discouraging her? It takes all her will, but she unhooks her feet from the base of Anne’s back. She lowers her pelvis, so her vagina isn’t pressed against the cock, ready for action, just beneath the fine fabric of Anne’s trousers. Gives in to having her arms wrenched so high, relaxes into it.  </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I know you are right. I just get over excited sometimes. Let’s not, hmm? Let’s stop. I wouldn’t want you to think I’m too eager” As she finishes this, Anne is pressing into her. Thrusting her tongue along Ann’s. Pulling her core apart by her firm round cheeks. Ann can feel her vagina opening up. She gasps. Fresh arousal spills from her. Anne can feel it, and smiles. </p><p> </p><p>“You can’t hide how eager you are, my dear girl. Not you. You get far too aroused. I’d ask how many men you’ve been under, but I am not sure I would like the answer” Anne emits a joyless laugh.</p><p> </p><p>Ann is stunned. She has never been with anyone else, but doesn’t know if this is the time to say. </p><p> </p><p>“I think you would like the answer” She whispers quietly in Anne’s ear, her breath hot, unsteady, lips touching her lobe. “I’ve only ever been with you”</p><p> </p><p>Anne stares down at her. Glowering. Let’s go of Ann’s hands, and pushes herself up swiftly. She unzips her fly, and pulls the phallus out. She doesn’t speak, she lifts Ann’s legs up at the knees, and pushes her back by her thighs, Ann’s calves on her shoulders, and she begins to force her cock through Ann’s slick folds, entering her sharply. Ann goes to scream, and finds her throat so thickened with lust, her shrieks come out dripping with honey. Anne pulls out slowly, almost all the way, then bucks her hips sharply, pushing her cock back to the hilt. Their bodies touching, connected.</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t you good to be so ready?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aaah, Mmm, God I want you” Ann husks in reply. </p><p> </p><p>At first, Anne works slowly, but hearing Hannah in rapture, she begins pounding her into the car bonnet. The powerful motion rocking the girl further up, pushed higher by the force of Anne’s thrusts. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re doing so well, my dear. So well. You must feel so full? Hmm?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aagh, yessss” Ann hisses “Mmm, so full” Her voice low, its timbre strikes a fire in Anne’s core.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmmm, Hannah, talk to me. Tell me how it feels” Anne manages to stammer out, her arousal building. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Ah, Oh God, Anne. I, I don’t know. I can’t think straight. All I can feel is your cock splitting me open”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Lord!” </p><p> </p><p>“You’re splitting me in two. Mmmm! Agh, ah, it’s almost too much” She starts to smile a little. Anne looking down at her, watching her closely. “But it isn’t. It’s perfect. You are perfect” Her eyes open, looking straight into Anne’s. The intensity overwhelming “Oh God!”</p><p> </p><p>As Anne tries to pull out, the girl’s walls grip the sides of the cock, squeezing it. The pressure of her thrusts drawing her cock deep inside her lover. Anne knows she is close. They both are. She draws back sharper, pushes in harder. Hannah’s hands fly to her sides, her back, her shoulders, her arms, grabbing, grasping, mewling deeply. A deeper sound than Anne has heard from her before. </p><p> </p><p>“Anne, keep fucking me, don’t stop. Don’t stop!” Anne had no idea she had slowed, but when she tries to increase the speed, she feels a deep burning where the base of the cock has been pressing into her core. Her clit throbbing, she’s going to come. </p><p> </p><p>The only sounds Ann can hear are Anne’s grunts, her heavy breathing, the rocking of the car as they move together, and the occasional car driving past the entrance to the track. Luckily, they never turn onto the track. Ann doesn’t know what she would do if someone drove past, and saw them. </p><p> </p><p>Anne's pace increases.</p><p> </p><p>“So, have you seen how virile I am?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yessssss, oh! Agh!”</p><p> </p><p>Anne's thrusts harder still. A roll of her hips deepening the next thrust.</p><p> </p><p>“Hnnnggg!” Ann is delirious. Panting in Anne’s ear. Unable to fashion her thoughts into words.</p><p> </p><p>“And do you like it? Is this what you wanted?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, oh yes, oh Anne! I love it, I love you, Anne”</p><p> </p><p>The night is settling in, looking over Anne’s shoulder, Ann tries to focus on the stars. The tremendous pressure of Anne Lister’s cock fucking her brings her back to reality. Ann goes from taking in the whole of the universe, to being reduced to the burning, immense fullness of being fucked deep and hard by someone who really knows how, and who is clearly enjoying it. </p><p> </p><p>“Hmmm, Ok, good. Now it's my turn. Show me how beautiful you are when you come”</p><p> </p><p>She pulls Anne down into a kiss, and feels her walls contract. Ann is getting wetter, she can feel her come pooling underneath her bum. Sliding on the car bonnet, and she comes with Anne Lister buried deep inside her. Her walls pulsating, her entrance fluttering against the unyielding cock that has driven her wide open. </p><p> </p><p>The girl is dragging her nails down Anne’s back and arms, panting, mewling, sweating beneath her, completely delirious, eyes glazed, jaw slack. She’s coming, and so is Anne. Her thrusts fall out of time, erratic, forceful, she groans, and hears a deeper sound than she had expected. Her trousers warm with the slick of her own arousal. Anne laughs, picks Hannah’s head up by her chin, and smiles down on her. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve never come at the same time as someone else before. I don’t know what to say, but that was quite beautiful. Thank you”</p><p> </p><p>Ann is perplexed. “Why are you thanking me?”</p><p> </p><p>“For letting me do that to you” Anne has never been asked that question before. Wasn’t it obvious?</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t ‘do’ anything to me, Anne. We had sex. Together’</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yes. Well, I suppose we did”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes” And Ann reaches up to pull Anne down, over her again. She says, earnestly “I’ve never wanted anyone enough before, but I can’t say no to you. I adore you”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been telling me you love me all night!” Anne pulls out, starts to sit, and laughs. “You tried to claim you were a virgin when we met! Dear God girl, you really should hear the things you say to me when I’m fucking you!” Anne laughs again, shakes her head.</p><p> </p><p>“I do love you” Ann feels that it’s more important for Anne to believe this, than it is for Anne to know she was a virgin. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s six days, Hannah” Admonishing. </p><p> </p><p>“I know. But, I know I do” Clearly. Quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok. Well, we shall see, won’t we. Six days is no time at all. Imagine! You might hate me in another six!”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t” Ann kisses her again. “I won’t” Ann lets her go, finally. Anne rolls onto her back, both of them laid on the bonnet of her Jag, looking again for Venus and Mars in the clear night sky.</p><p> </p><p>“How many women have you shagged on this car bonnet?”</p><p> </p><p>“None, well one. You”</p><p> </p><p>“And how many have you had in that car?”</p><p> </p><p>“It's my uncle’s car”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it was, but you're the one who drives it now” her pause met by silence “How many have you bought up here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you ask?”</p><p> </p><p>“Curiosity. Well? It's what you want from women, isn't it? Sex. It's all you want me for. Not that I blame you. I'm not very interesting really. Not like you are”</p><p> </p><p>“No it isn't! And you are! Why would you say that? Why do you think like that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, we haven’t had a conversation before have we? You were surprised earlier, that I knew about Roman Gods. And why was that? Probably because you thought I was stupid. You just want me naked, on my back or up against a wall, screaming your name”</p><p> </p><p>“No, that is not true. And anyway I wouldn't have bought you up here, if you had agreed to go out with me, on an actual date, to a restaurant”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Anne! I'm kidding! I'm only kidding” Ann tries to roll onto Anne, to kiss her.</p><p> </p><p>Anne holds her back a little. Looking her in the eye.</p><p> </p><p>“But were you? I'm here because you wanted us to come here. You didn’t want to be seen with me, remember? Not the other way around”</p><p> </p><p>“I've never said I didn't want to be seen with you! Where did that come from?”</p><p> </p><p>“Your behaviour. How you are. So far, you just want me in secret” Anne smirks “As is your right” her voice lower still “and I accept your terms” </p><p> </p><p>Anne pulls her across, to kiss her. This time, Ann stops her. </p><p> </p><p>“Those are not my terms. I don't know why I said I didn’t want to go to a restaurant”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh good” Anne swiftly sits up “Shall we go now?”</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t”</p><p> </p><p>“No” Resigned</p><p> </p><p>“But not for any reason you might be thinking. I don’t know where you get your ideas from”</p><p> </p><p>“From experience, Hannah. Bitter experience”</p><p> </p><p>“Why wouldn't I want to be seen with you?” Anne looks away. She has started to cry, and Ann sees “Oh, Anne! I'm not like whoever said that to you. I don’t know why you'd think I was. I want you. I'd be happy to go with you anywhere”</p><p> </p><p>“Hannah, look at me. You didn't want to go out to a restaurant with me, in case people thought we were together”</p><p> </p><p>“My friends and relatives already know I'm gay, Anne. So no one I care about would be surprised”</p><p> </p><p>Ann kisses her lips, her hand cradling her face. Anne pushes her back gently.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm” Anne looks at her quizzically “I didn’t know that”</p><p> </p><p>Ann is annoyed “No, well there's a lot you don't know about me”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm, I can only imagine”</p><p> </p><p>“Now” Ann wants to bring the conversation back to something less antagonistic. Ann's voice is low “I am looking at you, and I see a very beautiful, incredibly sexy woman”</p><p> </p><p>Smiling, then pauses “Ok!” Laughs, throwing her hands in the air. She is exasperated when she sees Anne isn’t joining in. Anne is leaning on the windscreen, her body facing her. Her expression unreadable.</p><p> </p><p>Anne begins “How do you know Catherine Rawson?”</p><p> </p><p>“Who?” Panic.</p><p> </p><p>“She was one of the girls you were with at Nest, wasn’t she? The one you were dancing with?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, she's a friend. I've known her a while”</p><p> </p><p>“And she told you who I was? You knew my name in the bar, before I told you”</p><p> </p><p>“Did I? I was drunk. I don't think so”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you did. You called my name out that first time we had sex. I knew she was one of Mrs Rawson's granddaughters when I saw her. I don't know what she told you about me, but I don't just use women for sex. And I haven't any money, either, if that's what you had imagined. The estate makes a pittance, hence my uncle’s old banger”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a Jaguar”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s 12 years old. What have you told Catherine about us?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing! Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because, my dear, I know her grandmother. And it seems your friend has been telling her grandmother all about us. Gossip flies around this bloody place. It's why I prefer to be away. It's alright though. Her gran misheard. Thought Catherine had said it was one of her cousins I was fucking”</p><p> </p><p>Ann is stunned by Anne’s language, and the ferocity in which she uses it, spitting her words out. </p><p> </p><p>“She did? She told her grandmother I was sleeping with you?” Says Ann, still in amazement. She has told Catherine next to nothing, yet it was still too much. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. So, you know. Be more aware. If you are going to be out, people will talk. They'll all be living vicariously through you, and your fascinating sex life”</p><p> </p><p>“I don't care that Catherine's grandma knows I'm with you. Why do you care? If you're friends with her, why wouldn't you want her to know about me?”</p><p> </p><p>Anne is stunned.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I don't. I just. I thought you might”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, don't try to second guess me. And I’ve told Catherine barely anything. She just has an inventive mind. I borrowed that black pencil skirt from her to meet you. And the blue chiffon dress. And the gold sequin dress, actually. I don’t own any clothes like that, apart from what I’m wearing now and that’s only because I bought it today. Catherine guessed. She knew we had seen one another at Nest. So, then she assumed we were dating. I told her that wasn't the case. But it seems she didn’t believe me. She did tell me to be careful of you, though. Your reputation precedes you, Miss Lister”</p><p> </p><p>Ann reaches across, smiling. She grabs Anne's hand.</p><p> </p><p>“My reputation?”</p><p> </p><p>“As a sex God”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Well, I had no idea that was what people were still saying about me”</p><p> </p><p>“Still?” Ann giggles.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I mean, I know in my romantic youth people may have said such things, but we are in the twilight of those days now”<br/>
She's laughing, her hand wafting away her words into the air above her dramatically.</p><p> </p><p>“I love how powerful you are” She looks at Anne with scorching intensity, then shies away when that look is reciprocated. “So! You get to experience my beauty, such as it is. And I get to experience how virile you are. Is there anything that would make life even better?" Ann asks teasingly, her fingers trailing a line along Anne's crotch.</p><p> </p><p>“I'm getting too old for this, Hannah”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” she pulls Anne’s hand towards her chest, cradling it “You're not old. What are you too old for?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, compared with you I am. I can’t keep up with you! Believe me, I am trying, but I'm too old for this, Hannah. You need someone your own age” </p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?” Innocent.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, well, what did you mean by 'what would make life even better'? You weren't alluding to another round?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Ann thumps her arm, still holding her hand in the other hand. “I meant, well, what is it that you want. Now. From life”</p><p> </p><p>“Ultimately? I want to sort the business out, sort Shibden out, and get married” Turns to Ann and smiles.</p><p> </p><p>“Who to?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don't know” Ann stares at her, drops her hand, pushes back. Anne grabs her hand again, both hands and holds it between them, laughs “I've not got another woman somewhere, if that's what you're thinking! It's just something I just always thought would happen” Anne is wistful “and it hasn't happened yet” She looks directly into Ann's eyes, holding both of her hands.</p><p> </p><p>Ann is silent. Things have gone way too far, and she cannot think of a way out of this with Anne still wanting her. And Catherine? What was she thinking of? A sinking feeling grows deep inside. This might end up being the last night she has with Anne Lister. Anne wants more, she wants a wife, and Ann has lied about her name, her looks, her confidence. She has lied her way out of the running to be with Anne, permanently. Yet, everything else she has told her has been the truth.</p><p> </p><p>“When I said I loved you. Earlier, when we were, well, you know” Ann giggles “well, I meant it. I love you”</p><p>“Well, that's just as well, considering all the filthy things you let me do to you in public!” Anne laughs, fiendish, crawls back on top of her, presses down and kisses her. Moaning, desperate. Ann's legs wrap around her lover, as she grinds into her core. </p><p> </p><p>“I just can’t say no to you” Ann gives out a breathless giggle “and I don’t want to” </p><p> </p><p>She drags her in for a kiss. It's slow, and deep, and intimate in a way Anne had forgotten about. Somewhere in the recesses of her memory, she remembers what it was like to be unguarded and open with a woman. She knows she's felt it before, because that's how she recognises it now. She's in love with her. This girl has her as infatuated as she ever was with a girl, and in under a week.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahh, we ought to go. We can’t stay out here all night”</p><p> </p><p>“I just feel grateful that no one came up here walking their dog!”</p><p> </p><p>“If they had, I would have had them for trespass. This is my land, Hannah. This is a private road, out to one of the holiday lets”</p><p> </p><p>Ann is shocked. She had thought all along how brave they were being. The risks they were taking exciting her beyond words. But no. A private road. She thumps Anne on the arm. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for letting me think that anyone in Halifax could see my bare behind at any time!”</p><p> </p><p>“If you wore knickers more often, my dear, you wouldn’t have the worry”</p><p> </p><p>Ann is filled with faux outrage. </p><p> </p><p>“I tell you what? I won’t be wearing any at all when I see you next. I might stop wearing them altogether!” </p><p> </p><p>The two lovers begin their sliding descent from the bonnet of the car. Ann finds her knickers, puts them back on. Her dress is on the roof of the car. She puts it back on, ties the ribbon at her waist. She finds the one shoe in the foot well of the car, but the other seems lost forever. It’s late, and the wind is picking up. It’s cold.</p><p> </p><p>“Get in the car, Hannah. I'll take you home, and I will come up here tomorrow to look for it in the light”</p><p> </p><p>Ann is worried now. She can’t have Anne take her home, because Anne knows who lives at Lydgate.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it's fine. I'll walk”</p><p> </p><p>“No, you won't. I'll take you, come on” Anne tries to lead Hannah to the car from the field, looking for her shoe in the pitch dark “Come on, I can’t leave you up here on your own can I?”</p><p> </p><p>“Take me back to the Library. I will walk from there”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I see. So you don't even want me to know what street you live on?” Anne blinks, steps back. She is trying to steady her breathing. “Fine. Ok. I'll drop you there. We shall have to find your other shoe, in that case. I’ll put the headlights on”<br/>
She does, and the black stiletto is illuminated across the way. Ann runs over to collect it.</p><p> </p><p>They get in the car, silence. Anne is breathing very heavily. Ann knows that she is upset, and understandably so. Ann is dropped off at the library. As she climbs out of Anne’s car, she turns to her:</p><p>“Anne I'm so sorry. I am” Anne doesn't look at her or reply. She starts crying as soon as she pulls away. How had this happened again? How had she let a girl like that affect her so much. She was a bloody fool. She never learns.</p><p> </p><p>Ann calls for a taxi, and waits. Why had she started this stupid game? Why hadn’t she said who she was tonight when Anne asked about Catherine? She has no answer. She just knows she has fucked up, and hurt the very woman she adores. </p><p> </p><p>Anne walks back into her house, to be greeted by a shrieking Marian. Where had she been? It was gone 11pm, and she had been gone since the morning. No mobile signal is Anne’s usual excuse. Marian asks her to think of another. Anne just wants to spend a few minutes with her aunt before bed. Just to tell her about the situation with Hannah. She needs a sounding board. </p><p> </p><p>Anne pushes past Marian, who was attempting to block the stairs. She goes to her aunts room, and knocks. Aunt Anne answers, and in she goes. Her aunt listens. She hears all about meeting Hannah in the bar, then meeting again a few times in the week, and now this evening. She doesn’t tell her aunt that most of the time they have been in the others company, they’ve been having sex. Although she does say that they have. Her aunt says that she needs someone who suits her. Someone who could be happy at Shibden with her, help run the estate and the lets. Someone steady. Not some floozy from a bar. Anne reads between the lines. She knows this already. Hannah is not for her. </p><p>Aunt Anne talks about Ann Walker again. She knows that it’s been said enough times since she had been back, but perhaps she could renew their acquaintance? Her aunt explained that Ann worked at the library, but had a lot of property. A bell rings in Anne’s head. Works at library, and knows Catherine Rawson? Knew her name, and says she has always loved her? Although she certainly bares no resemblance to the Ann Walker who used to follow her around when she was still at school, but even so? Anne says that she is ready for bed, and kisses her aunt goodnight. </p><p>She goes to her laptop and looks for Ann Walker on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. Nothing. She looks for Catherine Rawson on Instagram, and instantly finds photos of the three girls at Nest, on the night they met. Photos which include Hannah, but Catherine has tagged them all. </p><p>The little blonde is Ann Walker. Those are the only photos of Ann Walker uploaded, but Catherine seems to be out most nights. So Ann isn’t a party girl too? Why on earth did she give her a fake name? If tonight had not have been how it was, she could have believed Ann was only in this for sex, but she had told her she had loved her. The girl who Aunt Anne kept pestering her to get to know better, the steady librarian who didn’t go out much, and who drives her wild, and says that she loves her. So, what to do with this information? How to let Ann know she knows her secret?</p><p>Anne decides that she will pay Miss Walker an unexpected, but long anticipated, call tomorrow. See what she has to say for herself. Anne wants to know what is real, and what else, other than her name, has been a lie.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The Morning After the Night Before</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Miss Lister for Miss Walker. </p><p>NSFW - As if any of you are still going anyways!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for the feed back on the last chapter! So sorry been delayed in uploading this little lot!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anne Lister awoke at 7.13am Saturday morning, with the sun beaming through her window, flooding her room in golden light. Instantly, she was in a foul mood. Last night? Well. What could be said? Other than she had let her guard down, had been made a fool of by a woman, yet again. She can’t be sure just how angry she is with Ann Walker, her overriding feeling is of being angry as hell with herself. Why does she do these things? Fuck it, she thinks. Another one to chalk up to experience. Another notch on the bedpost. And in style, too. What would Eliza Priestley say if she knew her precious little Miss Walker was actually the merry widow? Happy to dance and strip in a field whilst she watched? The thought made her smile. </p><p>She picks up her trousers, kicked under the bed last night. Dear God, more dry cleaning? What the hell had she been doing in them? Yeah – wearing trousers to have sex using a strap can do that. She throws them into a bag. They can go to the cleaners when she collects the others. There will be no more, at least. </p><p>As she moves around her room, preparing herself for the day, she is glad at least to be up before her aunt and sister. The rest of the house in silence, she creeps downstairs and makes herself a coffee. Taking the mug outside to get some air, she spots Marian walking back from the lets, laundry in her arms, staring pointedly at Anne, and then at the car bonnet. </p><p>Anne can see why straight away. It's smeared, all over. But worse on one side. The imprints of bum cheeks almost visible. Practically crystal clear. Random smears, palm prints, finger marks, all over the body work. Marian looks at her in disgust, and begins her rant:</p><p> </p><p>“They say every picture tells a story, and this canvass certainly does. It's pretty clear what you were doing yesterday, all day and all night. You disgust me, you really do. I don’t know where you find women like that, who’d do that” she gestures to the worst of the marks, as she spits out her words “I imagine you’d have to pay them! Why do you have to be like this? You've no shame whatsoever, have you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps, you should try getting laid yourself, Marian. Then you might not be like that” She wafts her free hand towards Marian “you need to start caring less about what I get up to. Find a life for yourself, hmmm?”</p><p> </p><p>“Find a life for myself? When? In between doing all the washing, all the cooking, and all the cleaning? For your business? Whilst you swan off, looking for” She’s angry, and she’s struggling for the right words “loose women!”</p><p>“Christ, Marian! Is that the 1950s calling you back?”</p><p>Marian is on a roll now “Yeah, go on. Laugh! I know Aunt Anne's always going on about you going to see Ann Walker, but I reckon she's had a lucky escape from you, if this is what you expect from women”</p><p> </p><p>Anne would dearly love to burst her bubble about Little Miss Walker, but simply laughs and shakes her head instead “Really? You have no fucking idea, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>Anne walks back to the house.  To prepare a bucket of hot water for that car bonnet. She can't have Aunt Anne seeing it like that. It’s bad enough that Marian had seen it, had wanted her to feel guilty about it. She would have agreed had it been someone else. It was a pretty vulgar way to behave, at any age, but especially in your 40s. Perhaps this is what happens when you are having a mid-life crisis? That idea really doesn’t bear thinking about.</p><p> </p><p>By 8am, Eliza Priestley is around at Ann’s, fussing over her mental health medication, asking her how the therapy sessions are going. Says she has been asking Anne Lister to come over. To cheer her up. So charming, such a conversationalist, she will bring her over to see her as soon as she is less busy. Ann says there’s no need, terrified Eliza might actually bring Anne Lister here. Ann really doesn’t want to have to explain herself. </p><p>Eliza has dropped a veg box off for Ann. Says she had forgotten the bag of grapes she has for her. Will drop them in later. Might be tomorrow, as she has so much to do today. Errands to run, people to visit. Ann doesn’t mind either way. She can’t wait for Eliza to leave. She wants to get back to nursing her hangover, and nursing her vagina. She feels red raw inside, and can barely touch herself to wash, or to go to the toilet. She winces when sitting down, and when standing up. Eliza doesn’t notice, so involved in herself. Lucky, thinks Ann. Another person Ann doesn’t want to have to explain anything to. </p><p>Anne showers after cleaning the car, and decides she needs to be very thoughtful about what she wears today. When she bursts that girls bubble, she needs to look fantastic. Sharp. Elegant. She has to look in charge, to let that girl know that she will have the last laugh. She goes with a thirties style waistcoat and high-waist trouser suit. Fine Italian black wool, of course. White dress shirt. Art Deco styled tie. Deco style cuff links. Clothes are everything, Anne believes. They announce who you are to the world before you even get to speak. This outfit should announce to Ann Walker that she isn’t a woman to be messed about by a silly girl. </p><p>Once Eliza has left, Ann is back upstairs for a bath. To soak herself clean, and to help soothe herself. No matter how sore she now is, she has no regrets. After how things were left last night, she doesn’t think Anne will want to see Hannah again. So, she was glad that she had sex with her, the way they did, and how they did, last night. A last hurrah. Anne had made her feel desired, free and limitless. She can’t imagine what would ever make her feel any of those things again. She loves Anne, but it’s done. There really is no going back. She has been a fool, but the memories she now has have made everything worthwhile. </p><p>Ann dresses for her day. Navy and grey Harris tweed skirt. Baby blue cashmere twinset. Blue silk scarf with a silvery border. Navy flats. Ann is happier in her own clothes. They help her form a barrier against the world. Her hair doesn’t belong down. It belongs wound up and tied, into a simple chignon. Her look is sensible. Dependable. A safe pair of hands at work, an accessible younger friend for numerous older relatives and neighbours. Ann wears classics. The clothes she buys she could still wear in her 80s. If you’ve never been in fashion, you can’t fall foul of it. </p><p>She is just about to step out into the garden with a book and a jug of water, when there is a loud firm knock on the door. Through the glass, she can see a dark figure. Not Eliza, then? She feels sick to her stomach when she opens it, to find Anne Lister standing there, beaming at her like the Cheshire Cat.</p><p>“Well, now. Hello, Miss Walker. It’s Anne Lister, from the Shibden estate just along the way. My aunt, and our mutual friend Eliza have been asking me to visit. So here I am!” Ann isn’t sure what is happening. Does she really not recognise her even now?</p><p>“Hello. Anne, I-“ Ann doesn't know what Anne is going to say to her. Her eyes seem very dark, when she really looks into them, and Ann isn't sure if it's anger there or something else. Or simply her paranoid and guilty imagination. “Please come in!” She tries to smile. It feels tight on her face. Her palms are sweating. </p><p>They head into the lounge.  “Please, sit down. Would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee?”</p><p>“Hmm” Anne smiles, but doesn’t sit. “Shall we have tea?” </p><p>Ann is unsure what to do. Anne isn’t sitting down, neither is she tearing a strip off of her.<br/>
“Ok, I will just go and make a pot. I won’t be long” Awkwardly, she leaves the room, and heads out to the kitchen.</p><p>Within minutes, Anne follows her. She walks into the kitchen stands directly behind Ann, as Ann reaches up, on tip toe, reaching into the kitchen cupboard for two cups. Anne puts her hands on Ann’s tweed covered hips, leaning in. The full length of her body almost touching Ann's, just inches away. Her breath is heavy. Ann is instantly aroused, having Anne so close to her like this. She tips her head back, rests the crown of her head on Anne's shoulder, Anne's lips now touching her ear. Her breath hot on Ann's neck, both of them suddenly breathing heavily. She pulls Ann's silk scarf, drawing her closer. Ann gasps as her head is drawn back.</p><p>“I do like this, this little scarf, very Mitford Sisters, isn't it? Very formal, traditional. The tweed skirt too. The cashmere. You really do look every inch the buttoned up, repressed little librarian, don't you? Miss Walker?”</p><p>Ann is in turmoil. What is about to happen? She stops breathing. She stays perfectly still. Her arousal at having Anne Lister whisper in her ear is palpable.</p><p>Anne unties the scarf, to reveal Ann's neck. She pulls the silk free, pockets it swiftly. Hers now, a trophy. The crown of Ann's little head remains rested on her shoulder, her neck bare. Anne kisses her, licks her, from her ear to the collar of her sweater. Ann moans softly, eyes closed, mouth open, a sight Anne finds intensely erotic. Anne genuinely had no idea what she would say to Ann Walker when she saw her, but when she saw the mousy girl who answered the door, the fear in her eyes, her anger suddenly evaporated. They have things to discuss, but that can wait. Anne can feel her arousal build, and knows Ann is already ready. She could take her now, if she chose to. Anne knows that Ann will already be magnificently wet, that if she were to touch her now, her folds would soon be fluttering beneath her fingertips, but she wants to enjoy more of her first. They have all the time in the world today, in Ann's home. More privacy than they have ever had before. Anne can take her time. Anne runs her hands over her girl's tummy, her hips, her waist, brushing over her pubis, and slowly up to her tummy again, higher, over her breasts.</p><p>“But I know different, don’t I? Hmm? I know that you are ready to fuck all of the time. Always on fire for me aren't you, hmmm? That you just can't get enough, can you? Can never be satisfied?” Ann mewls, needy. “I know how wild you get, when you're aching to be fucked so hard, so much so you think might explode. Look how far you are prepared to go to show how desperate you are to be fucked? Hmm? Stripping for me out in the fields, like a wanton harlot”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmmmm!”</p><p> </p><p>“Begging me to fuck you on the bonnet of my car, like the filthy little tart you really are”</p><p> </p><p>Ann is bucking, whimpering, the tone thick with lust.</p><p> </p><p>Anne pushes her hands up Ann's cashmere twinset top. Her palms on Ann's ribs, her fingers grazing the swell of her breasts rising and falling with her girl's erratic breaths. Her hands swiftly move over her large yet youthfully pert breasts. Both hands take a breast each, massaging them over her soft bra, fingering her erect nipples through the lace. Ann is gasping, shuddering against her, head rolling back on Anne's shoulder. Her neck exposed. Anne whispers in her ear:</p><p>"You know, there is something strangely erotic about cashmere. How soft it is. How it retains the body's heat. The warmth. Especially when I know that just underneath are the most delectable breasts I have seen in a long, long time"</p><p>She continues, flexing her fingers, rolling the nipples, cradling her soft, pliant breasts.</p><p>Ann's hands follow Anne's, over the top of her sweater, cupping Anne's hands as she cups Ann's full, heavy breasts. Following her fingers as they trail over her nipples. She quickly begins bucking back into Anne's hips. Her mewling beginning in earnest.</p><p>“What will I find when enter you now? Hmm? Miss Walker? I think I'm going to find you hot, wet, and as eager to please as you were last night”</p><p> </p><p>Ann can't speak, she softly exhales a gentle wail.</p><p> </p><p>“So! What was it you promised me when I last saw you?” Anne husked.</p><p>Ann is confused. Shakes her head, and moans. She can’t be asked questions whilst she is in this state. That’s not fair. </p><p> </p><p>“Don't you remember? Oh, my dear girl, I do. You promised me that the next time I saw you, you wouldn't be wearing any knickers”</p><p> </p><p>Anne reaches down, and lifts Ann's skirt. Slowly runs a hand in between Ann's legs, up her thigh to her sex. When she gets there, there's fabric. Ann’s hands fly up to link at the back of her neck, fingers wound in Anne's hair. Ann is mewling, desperate for Anne to push past her knickers. She pulls Anne's hair, who growls in her throat at the sensation.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, so I see how this is. You lie about your name, and you don’t keep your promises. Good to know. And yet here we are. I do hope you can explain yourself, ANN. Hmm? Anything to say for yourself, hmm? Miss Walker?”</p><p> </p><p>Anne is breathing heavily in her ear, they're so close, Anne's lips brushing her lobe as she speaks. Her hand firm, but stilled at her core.</p><p>“Oh God, Anne, you drive me crazy for you” Ann husks, her voice strained. </p><p> </p><p>Anne rubs her girls clit through the fabric. Ann is rutting, trembling, gasping. Hands dropped, clawing now at the edge of the worktop with blind fingers. Anne circles her need, travels down the fabric to her entrance, where the fabric is ridiculously slick with her arousal. Pushes in lightly, the fabric barely giving under her fingertips. Ann's breath catches in her throat, her moans now an octave lower. She's close already. Anne takes her hand away, and pushes her hips into her from behind, forcing her closer to the worktop. Ann barely opens her eyes, but she grumbles at the loss. Anne drags her knickers down at the back, pushes her hand down, and with one foot, knocks at Ann's left foot, to get her to open her legs. She does. Her knickers are dragged down far enough for Anne to really feel her sex. The labia engorged, and hot to the touch. The walls feel slightly swollen. Ann's entrance is raw from being fucked so hard for so long the night before. Her clit pulsating, erect. Moisture drips onto Anne's hand and wrist, like morning dew. Ann tries to retreat as Anne strokes her. Anne pins her down using her weight from behind, and resumes petting her, the action increases her wetness, making Ann easier to penetrate without causing her too much pain. Ann, panting heavily, leans forwards very slightly, shucks her knickers off on one leg, widening her legs further, her knuckles white as she grips the worktop. Anne begins by pushing her middle finger into her bucking, convulsing, desperate lover, from behind. She quickly increases her pace, pushing in harder, faster, her assent into Ann amply assisted by the slickness of her girl's vagina.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahh, Anne, Oh God! Anne-“</p><p> </p><p>Anne can feel how hot she is. Ann's cunt is sore, but still hungry. Still thirsting. Still craving Anne. With one finger fucking her, and the other hand fingering her nipple, Anne's tongue and lips caress her delicate neck, bringing Ann to the very edge with skill and grace, and then throwing her over it. She cries out. Anne bites down on the pulse near Ann's ear, groaning loudly as she does so. Ann immediately comes hard in response, the clear viscous liquid runs over Anne's hand. Her walls clamping down on Anne's fingers, her burning, raw flesh twitching, throbbing. Ann crying, mewling, shaking. Her legs weak, held up between the worktop and Anne.</p><p>Anne doesn't want to take her hand away, her fingers still buried inside her lover. Ann's breathing starts to steady. Anne kisses her neck, gently, feather-light kisses, brushing her hair away as it falls from her twist. Ann's neck glistens lightly with sweat. Anne is completely mesmerised by her. This girl really would allow Anne to do almost anything with her, and yet convinces the world that she is innocence itself. The tweeds, the twin set, the little silk scarf, like a prim and proper country lady. How utterly exquisite! How thoroughly debauched! What a thrill this girl is. Anne has never known another like her.</p><p> </p><p>Ann begins to rock on Anne's fingers again. She gasps, as does Anne, as she realises what she is doing. Ann hums as she thrusts, the hmmms becoming a pant, becoming a gasp.</p><p>“Anne, please! Oh God, I need you”</p><p> </p><p>“Ann? I need to look at you, properly. I'm going to pull out now”</p><p> </p><p>Ann cannot bare to be parted from Anne for a second, but struggles to put this need into words. “Nooooo! Hmmm!”</p><p> </p><p>“Not for long my sweet, hmm?” Anne kisses her head lightly “I intend to turn you around strip you, and pin you to that wall over there. And then I can suck on your breasts as I fuck you. And you can slide down, taking me as deep as you can”</p><p> </p><p>“Argh, hmmm, yesssss!” Ann hisses.</p><p> </p><p>Anne pulls out, draws back, and pulls Ann around to face her. She is wobbly on her legs, her eyes without focus. Anne pulls her head towards her, one hand behind her little head, the other drawing her chin up, fingers in her hair line, brushing her ear. Anne kisses her, deeply, Ann mewls in her mouth. Anne deepens the kiss further, turning Ann's head. Stoking her neck, pushing against her with her hips. Ann's little hands crawl up Anne's arms to her shoulders, and cling on.</p><p> </p><p>Anne pulls back. Ann's lips are fiery red, swollen from the depth of their kiss. Her face, neck and chest flushed. Anne takes time to really appreciate her, for the first time. Her freckles over her cheeks and nose, covered by make-up every time she has seen her. Her pale, long fanned lashes, usually hidden by huge spidery fake ones. She is very sweet, she thinks. No wonder Aunt Anne is so smitten with her, so convinced that Anne should get to know her better. Perhaps she will. Her anger continues to retreat. Again, her girl starts to thrash and mewl. Ann isn't retreating. Ann needs fucking again, her hunger insatiable.</p><p> </p><p>Anne unzips the tweed skirt, letting it fall to the floor. She pulls the cardigan from Ann's arms, the sweater over her head, more curls toppling from the chignon, and she unhooks Ann’s bra. As naked as God made her, before Anne for the first time. Anne gasps. Her ivory skin, soft as silk velvet, her heavy breasts, soft tummy, round bottom, her silken thighs.</p><p> </p><p>Ann watches Anne study her through heavy lids. Mouth open, breathing softly. Ann can feel a trickle of come forge its way down her leg. She can feel more where that came from, the pressure building up inside her. She is sore, she is throbbing, she is raw, and still she can't get enough. If Anne had arrived with her cock, she would have gratefully bent over, and spread her legs, regardless of the pain. The determination to be filled, to have Anne inside her overrides reason.</p><p> </p><p>“Anne, please-“</p><p> </p><p>“Hmmm, please?” Anne is snapped from her day dream, where Ann was spread beneath her on her bed, Anne licking every freckle on her thighs, her tummy, her labia.</p><p> </p><p>Ann wails again. Disgruntled. Anne's adoration doesn't complete her the way having Anne inside of her does.</p><p> </p><p>“Anne!” She's panting now, mewling, “Fuck me!”</p><p> </p><p>Anne pulls her thighs and cheeks apart, spreading her wide as she lifts her naked girl to her waist. Little feet hooking around her back. She rams her into the wall behind, her head hits her breasts, rubbing her face in the expanse of warm, erotic flesh. Finding a nipple, licking it, sucking it, Anne can feel how wet Ann now is. Anne groans loudly, Ann wails, the pitch deeper than the lightness of her voice would suggest she could go. Anne thrusts into her. Ann slips lower, taking Anne in, up to her knuckles. Ann rocks her hips, her muscles help to move Anne within her. Anne flexes her fingers, separating them, twisting them, clawing deep inside her girl, seeking her g spot. Ann just can't stop getting wet. Gasping, clawing at Anne's shoulders. Anne kisses her, deep, sloppy, so much heat behind it. Ann's folds start to flutter. Anne stokes over her clit, tiny light circles. Then back to thrusting in deeply, then teasing her clit.</p><p> </p><p>When Ann cums this time, she is in Anne's arms, her face buried in Anne's neck, surrounded by her scent, incense and sweat, kissing her there. Anne moves fast, continues her assault on Ann’s body, kissing down around her breasts, and up along her throat. Ann is in ecstasy as she calls out Anne's name, over and over. Clawing her back, mewling, thrashing, gripping onto Anne's fingers, her cunt spent, but unwilling to let go. Her vagina has a mind all of its own Ann thinks, smiling.</p><p> </p><p>Anne feels her fingers being drawn back into her lover, deeper and deeper, until Ann cums, and fresh arousal sweeps them away, the slick greater than before. Anne loves that Ann is so expressive, so demonstrative, so keen and eager. Ann's eyes are shut tightly, but her sighs and whines reveal she might not be entirely sated. </p><p>“Stay where you are, Anne! God! Don’t you dare pull out!” Ann husks, urgently, as she collapses over Anne’s shoulder.</p><p>Anne is wondering where they should move to for round three, as Eliza Priestley walks in.</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Brassneck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eliza! Isn't this what you get for walking into other people's houses unannounced?</p><p>A little fic-let! More tomorrow!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I want to thank you for all your lovely comments!!! Seriously! They mean a lot x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oh! Exclaims Eliza, dropping the bag of grapes all over the kitchen floor. </p><p>Anne's head snaps around, beaming at Eliza. She lets Ann down from the wall, moving in front of her to block her lovers naked body from view. She doesn't take her eyes from Eliza, as she pulls a handkerchief from her trouser pocket, wipes her fingers, as she starts, cheerful if somewhat breathless:</p><p>"Eliza! Well, how wonderful to see you. Thank you so much for encouraging me to visit Miss Walker here. We've just been catching up!"</p><p>Both Eliza and Anne look at Anne's hands. And at the blue silk scarf she is wiping them with. </p><p>"You are, you were! Oh, goodness me! In the kitchen! And with Ann so upset at the moment!"</p><p>"I dont believe Ann is upset now" replies Anne, sardonic.</p><p>"Oh! You really are shameless, aren't you? And to think I've defended you all these years! Everyone said that you couldn't control yourself with other girls, and here's the proof of it!" Eliza's eyes scan the room. Ann's discarded clothes strewn around and about. Ann's naked behind, poking out from behind Anne Lister's wide trouser leg.</p><p>"I think perhaps we need to give Miss Walker some space, hmm? Allow her to get herself together?" Anne states with authority "Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in the living room"</p><p>Ann is crouched behind Anne, her fingers gripping her waist tightly. She can see her skirt and sweater on the kitchen floor. Her knickers just feet away from Eliza. Her bra also in view, on the worktop. She peers around her lover, to see the shock on her older friends face. The haughty authority of Anne's tone when replying to Eliza. Ann could feel the ridiculousness of the situation beginning to come out in a giggle. Seconds later, she was in hysterics. The combination of Ann's laughter, and Anne finally falling silent, shakes Eliza from her stupor. </p><p>"Ann, I shall call you about this later. When she has left!"</p><p>The door slams, and Ann starts to recover, Anne turning around to get a better look at her. </p><p>"Oh my God! You've some brassneck! You're hilarious! Trying to have a conversation with Eliza after she'd seen, well, all this!"</p><p>Ann throws her arms around Anne's neck, laughing heartily.</p><p>"I'm used to covering my tracks. It's been a useful skill over the years" Anne says, balling the scarf up in her fist, as she embraces Ann in return.</p><p>"Oh! I don't doubt it, but you can't cover this! And, sadly, I think I'm the Ann she means to call" Ann says, with a giggle. "And, that's my scarf! Anne!"</p><p>"Yes, sorry! Thought it was a handkerchief" Anne answers, sheepishly.</p><p>"Hmm. You can get it dry cleaned!"</p><p>Anne pulls Ann tightly to her.</p><p>"Yeah, I seem to have a lot of cleaning since I met you. Do you want me to pass you your clothes?"</p><p>"Hmm. No. No point in getting dressed again, is there? Get upstairs! I wasn't finished with you" and Ann begins kissing Anne once again, passionate from the start.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Let's go Upstairs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Let's go upstairs!</p><p>Anne and Ann just can't make it to the bedroom.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another fic let! More to come, as it were.</p><p>Thank you all so much for your comments! You spur me on!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ann breaks away, and runs, naked to the stairs, pulling Anne by one hand behind her. As she makes her ascent, Anne watches. The softness of her bottom, how it bounces as she moves, the sway of her hips, the sheen of arousal at the top of her thighs as they part. </p><p>"Stay where you are, I want to have a closer look at you!" Anne commands, and Ann stops in her tracks.</p><p>Anne is two steps behind her, as she reaches up, to cup Ann's sex from behind. Ann is as wet as Anne expected her to be. Ann releases a low, soft moan as Anne's fingers part her folds from behind. Ann finds herself held down on the staircase, Anne's fingers moving to circle her entrance from behind. Anne can feel how hot her cunt is, it's heat and slickness taking her breath away.</p><p>"How is it that you are always so ready? So fabulously wet, so happy to be fucked wherever I want to fuck you?"</p><p>Ann is mewling into the stair carpet, her hands gripping the ledge of their stair in front of her face. Anne places one hand on her girls soft thigh. The other moves over and around Ann's hungry entrance teasing it with the promise of being filled, hard and fast.</p><p>"Such a wild little thing, aren't you? Show me how thirsty you are!"</p><p>Ann starts to rut, her body taking over, purring and rolling her hips, naturally knowing what Anne wants to see. This vision of her makes Anne wet with desire. One day, she will make love to this girl, but she will need to be calmer than she is now. Now she just needs to fuck her until she squeals. Gripping her thigh to hold her still, she thrusts three fingers immediately into Ann's dripping cunt from behind. Pushing hard, drawing out slowly, building as fast a rhythm she can maintain. </p><p>Ann cries out, the intrusion into her raw and tender flesh initially too much. Ann can't believe how much Anne wants her. How often she wants to be inside her. It makes her feel incredible! To be so desired, lusted after, to be in possession of a vagina that is so responsive to her lovers needs, that becomes wet as soon as her lover so much as looks at her, so slick and ready to be filled. Ann relaxes into the thrusts to allow Anne the chance to bore into her deeper and deeper, and begins to push back into every thrust, taking her lovers fingers in further still. Suddenly feeling it's not quite enough.</p><p>"More" Ann whispers in a creaky voice.</p><p>"More? Hmm... what do you mean? More fingers?" Anne can't believe what she is hearing. How much stretch can the girls heated core take? Can she trust the girl not to take too much? </p><p>" Yessss!" Grinds out Ann, bucking and mewling, searching for a deeper connection. </p><p>Anne squeezes a fourth finger in, trying to round her knuckles a little for Ann's comfort, but Ann is soon thrusting hard onto her hand, a deep feral noise coming from within her chest. </p><p>"I'm so lucky to see you like this, hmm? Such a greedy girl, always wailing to be fucked. Keening as your tight little pussy is stretched, at my demand. And stretched again, at your request"</p><p>Ann begins the swift ascent to her climax, her hungry cunt sucking desperately on Anne's fingers, her muscles continually drawing her lover in deeper and deeper. Ann realises she can no longer control the spasms in her legs. Her thighs tremble, the muscles within unable to hold Ann up. Lucky, she doesn't need to go anywhere, but stay pinned to the stairs by Anne, pumping into her tight little hole.</p><p>"Come on, now. I want to hear you, now. I want to hear you tell me how much you enjoy being fucked"</p><p>"Mmmm" Ann's breathing erratic, her voice shuddering "I love it! I can't stop wanting it, I've dreamed of you, just like this, taking me hard from behind. Ugh, ah, it's better than I thought it would be"</p><p>"Oh my God" Anne can't believe her ears at the words pouring from Ann's slackened mouth. "What a dirty little girl you are! All heaving breasts, shaking legs, and a deep, wet, ravenous maw"</p><p>Ann can't keep quiet. She has no need to. Her guttural groans are matched by her walls wildly pulsating on Anne's hand. Ann comes, gasping and moaning, Anne delighting in the vision spread out before her. </p><p>"Oh you take me so well, my lovely girl. You're so keen! You really are a delight for me, aren't you?"</p><p>Ann mumbles incoherently. Anne leans in, and licks the cum pouring from Ann. The girls mewling becomes higher pitched, coupled by the groans emiting from Anne as she enjoys her, the sounds of carnal pleasures filling the hallway. Anne licks at her thighs, as the gloriously sticky fluid drips down her legs. Enjoying the fluttering lips of Ann's spent vagina on her tongue as she drinks her girl in, the pull of her vagina as it seeks out Anne's stiffened tongue. </p><p>She pulls out, kissing, then licking around, and finally, inside her entrance, almost reverently. Ann remains laid on the stair case, boneless and panting. </p><p>"Now, I wanted to ask you before we go upstairs. I drove here, and the strap is still in my glove box. Do you want me to fetch it? No pressure, my sweet girl"</p><p>"God, yessss!" Ann cries into the carpet. Her arousal continuing to pour.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. An Explanation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anne reconsiders what she was about to do, Ann gets drunk. Eventually, they talk.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Many thanks for all your comments! They really do spur me on!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anne sat in her passenger seat, looking at the strap-on in the glove box. She closes the compartment again, and sits in the car thinking. What the hell was she doing? She had arrived at Lydgate that day to tear a strip off of Ann Walker for leading her on, playing some weird game with her, using an assumed name. She had wanted an explanation. She certainly felt she deserved one, and now, all they had done was what they always seemed to do. Have sex. Anne could accuse Ann of only wanting her for sex, but that wasn’t entirely fair, was it? And now Eliza Priestley? Anne wants to know exactly what homophobic bullshit that old swine would have come out with, had she have taken Anne up on her offer of discussing it right there and then. But, whatever those words might have been, they remain unsaid. Anne has to say she was slightly surprised at how swiftly Eliza had determined the entire scene was all Anne’s doing, but then Eliza really doesn’t know much about Ann Walker, so it would seem. Anne wonders how she would react if she ran into Eliza in the same state? She shudders and shakes her head. That’s a thought she wished she hadn’t had. She will deal with Eliza, she thought smiling. But right now, she has to deal with Ann.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ann pulls herself up from the stairs. Christ, she aches, her torso had been pressed over the steps, her legs spread at odd angles. Her core felt so sore, she could barely close her legs without shuddering. And now Anne was in her car, retrieving the strap? Ann drags her naked body to her kitchen, retrieves a box of paracetamol, a bottle of Chablis and two glasses. She pours one at the worktop, and downs it in one with two tablets, before carrying the bottle and glasses upstairs. </p><p>Once in her room, she places the bottle and glasses on her dressing table, and sits in front of it on a small padded chair. Ann’s room is filled with mostly traditional yet modern pieces, plus a smattering of antiques. Warm lemon walls enhance the sunlight pouring through the tall windows, which overlook the gardens. A large four poster bed dominates the space, adorned with golden curtain, swags and tails. Ann is just in the process of downing a second glass, when she hears Anne’s boots on the stairs.</p><p>“I’m in here!” Ann calls.</p><p>She turns to find Anne Lister standing in the doorway. An inscrutable expression on her face.</p><p>Ann knows she is drunk already. She had drunk so much last night, and her tolerance to alcohol is not great. The two large glasses she polished off within minutes had made her gag a little, but it was necessary. As were the pain killers. Her body has to do this, if she doesn’t do what Anne Lister wants, then why would she stay? Ann couldn’t bear to lose her now.</p><p>“Do you want me like this?” She smiles at Anne, stands, and turns as she bends over her dresser, maintaining eye contact.</p><p>“No, I want you to put some clothes on, here” Anne throws over Ann’s clothing from downstairs.</p><p>“Why?” Ann feels shaky. Panicked. Anne is leaving anyway?</p><p>"Because, Miss Walker, we need to talk. Hmm?”</p><p>Ann takes the clothes. Tries to step into her knickers, and fails. She just can’t focus on the task in hand. A heady mix of alcohol, and the quickly growing feelings of loss and impending doom. She bursts into tears.</p><p>“Ann? What’s wrong?” Anne crosses the room to her, her eyes landing on the wine bottle, with little more than a third left in it. “Ann, are you drunk?” Anne is shocked.</p><p>Ann won’t look at her. Now she is focused on putting her bra on, the straps are creating some confusion.</p><p>“Here, let me” and Anne straightens her bra straps out, and finally, fastens the hooks at the back. She then picks the sweater up, and puts it over Ann’s head, helping her get her arms in.</p><p>“Were you drunk when I arrived?”</p><p>“No, I downed two glasses when you went out to your car”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“To numb the pain a little”</p><p>“What pain?”</p><p>“From before, last night. And earlier. You know”</p><p>“Ah, yes, sorry. So, why on earth did you say you wanted me to get the strap just now?”</p><p>“Because you wanted to”</p><p>“Ann, I asked you. You can say no, you know. You don’t have to agree to something just because I suggest it”</p><p>Anne gets Ann’s skirt fastened, her cardigan back on, and sits her down on the edge of the bed.</p><p>“So, that’s better now isn’t it? Shall I get you some water? Coffee?”</p><p>“Coffee, yes, that would be nice” Ann smiles at Anne. Her head spinning, but feeling much warmer back in her cashmere and tweeds. </p><p> </p><p>Anne doesn’t know where Ann keeps anything, but after a good rummage through her kitchen cupboards, she finds a cafetiere, a bag of ground coffee and two mugs. A small pot of single cream in the fridge, and she takes it all on a tray up the stairs to Ann’s bedroom</p><p>Ann is laid on the bed now, from where she had been sitting, her legs hanging down, feet almost reach the rug. Anne approaches her, resting the tray on the bedside table.</p><p>“Ann?”</p><p>Ann stirs, but doesn’t wake. Anne touches her shoulder, softly shaking her.</p><p>“Ann?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“I’m going now, ok?”</p><p>“Nooo!” Ann turns, but doesn’t sit up.</p><p>”I will leave my number on the kitchen table. Give me a call in the week if you want to discuss this?”</p><p>“No!” Ann sits up, bleary eyed. All the alcohol from last night, mixed with the best part of a bottle of white has more than caught up with her.</p><p>“I think we should talk, but not now, hmm?” Anne says quietly.</p><p>“Why not now?”</p><p>“Because you’re drunk. And you are tired” Anne begins, softly, letting Ann in on a confidence. “My Mother was an alcoholic, Ann. So, I can tell you’re in no fit state to explain yourself now”</p><p>“Oh but I can! I want to. Probably be easier now, to be honest. And I’m not an alcoholic. Don’t start thinking that, please”</p><p>“Hmm, well I don’t know about that. Get some sleep, give me a call” Anne says from the doorway.</p><p>“Anne, please” Ann’s gaze is fixed on Anne. “You made coffee, didn’t you? Pour me one?”</p><p>Anne returns swiftly to the bedside, and pours a black coffee for Ann, eager to be off.</p><p>“Do you want any of the cream? It was in your fridge?”</p><p>“Ah, no. That’s fine. Thank you. You have been much kinder than I might have expected, considering”</p><p>“Well, yes. Considering”</p><p>“How long have you known who I was?”</p><p>“Since last night, actually. So, not long” Anne sighs. There is anger in her tone “Just after I got home. Something my aunt said rang a bell, and after Mrs Rawson saying that I was sleeping with Ann Walker. Well, I knew then, really. I only came here today to find out what you were playing at”</p><p>“Oh. Right” Ann looks down, she doesn’t know what to say, although the room is coming more into focus.</p><p>“So!” Anne is making to leave again.</p><p>“Anne please, I’m alright. I should explain myself, and I want to. Probably best I do so now, really”</p><p>“Ok” Anne sits on the other side of the bed, on the edge.</p><p>“Last week, well, it wasn’t a usual afternoon for me. I should have been getting married, to a man, I’ll come back to that. And, well he died three months ago. And Elizabeth came to see me, to stay for a while, and Catherine was here, because she’s my best friend. And my cousin. Well, you know that”</p><p>Anne nods. Wondering where this is going.</p><p>“And I wanted to get away from the house, and go into town with them. Have a meal, a few drinks. But we started drinking rum cocktails that the bar staff had recommended, and they were lovely, and we just stayed for too long and drank too much. I don’t drink, not really, not as a rule. Honestly, I am no alcoholic. Anyway! I hadn’t seen you, and Catherine and Elizabeth must not have either. Until you sent those drinks over, and when I saw you at the bar, I knew it was you straight away. You haven’t changed a bit, not really”</p><p>Ann smiles, biting her lip bashfully. Anne dips her head, raising her eyebrows, entirely unconvinced.</p><p>Well, I thought you had recognised me too, you see, but when you hadn’t I just thought I would never see you again, and well. There we are”</p><p>“There we are, indeed” Anne fixes her eyes on Ann. Waiting for when the explanation might start.</p><p>Ann sits still, silent. She doesn’t know how to explain herself without sounding mad. And enough people think she is mad, as it stands. Eliza Priestley for one. Oh, God! Eliza Priestley! Ann has to get her thoughts back on track, forget about Eliza again for a while.</p><p>“Well, that explains why you knew my name at least” Says Anne, with a smirk.</p><p>“Oh, ah, yes” Flustered, and blushing, Ann tries to press on. Anne notes the blush. Very sweet. Embarrassed by her own behaviour. “Doesn’t explain why you told me you were called Hannah, when I actually did see you again”</p><p>“Well, I did see you again, before then. You didn’t recognise me. I was the assistant who booked your room, the first time you came to the archives. And, so I wanted to be the girl you had met at the weekend, when you came back the day after. I wanted you to see me, and want me, like you did at Nest. And that wasn’t me, so-“</p><p>“So? You didn’t think you could just tell me who you were?”</p><p>“No” Ann looks straight at her “I didn’t think you would be interested in me. And you just wanted sex, which was fine. Until last night, and even then? I don’t know what you want, Anne. But I just wanted to see you. That’s why I couldn’t go to a bar with you, a restaurant. I’ve lived here all my life, someone was bound to see me and speak to me. Calling me ‘Ann’. And why I couldn’t have you bring me home, because well, it’s not like you haven’t been to this house before, is it?” Ann finishes. Finally taking a breath. She looks across at Anne, hopeful.</p><p>“No. Well, you have quite honestly rendered me speechless, and that rarely happens”</p><p>“So, that is why. I wanted to be who you thought I was. So you would keep seeing me. That’s it”</p><p>Anne turns fully on the bed to look at Ann, her knee up on the covers.</p><p>“Ok. Do you want another coffee? Before I go?”</p><p>“You’re still going?”</p><p>“Well, yes. I think we both have a bit of thinking to do, no?”</p><p>Ann just wants to keep her here a little longer.</p><p>“Yes, I will have that coffee, then, thank you”</p><p> </p><p>After Anne leaves the room for the kitchen, tray in hand, Ann just feels flat. She isn’t sure what she expected Anne to say, or do. But whilst Anne is still here, she can keep trying to make her understand. Ann just needs to find the right words, but she doesn’t know if she can. </p><p> </p><p>Ann is laid up at the top of the bed, sitting up against the pillows and the headboard when Anne returns. Anne goes to rest the fresh tray on Ann’s bedside table. Ann knows she has to do something, so she reaches out and grabs Anne’s wrist.</p><p>“Anne, please stay”</p><p>“Ann, I-” Anne’s train of thought rolls away. Ann keeps hold of her hand, Anne sits next to her.</p><p>“Anne, what you really can never appreciate is what it's like to be someone like me, when you’re someone like you. I was on the verge of losing you every single time I saw you. I’m fully aware that I am not enough for you, and I know I never will be. The level of anxiety that causes, well, it makes people do stupid things. It made me do a stupid thing at any rate”</p><p>Anne realises Ann still sees Anne as she was all those years ago. As Anne once saw herself. Confident, charming, someone who people seek out, and want to be around. Anne wonders if she can get back to being that person, the person she once was, guided by the vision Ann has of her. Or if how she is now; broken, fragile, and bad tempered, would become all too apparent, all too soon, and it will be Ann who walks away.</p><p>Anne doesn't see this as something that should make her anxious, however. She sees it as a challenge, and one she feels she has a fair chance in succeeding in. After being so cold towards Ann for so long, she decides it’s time to soften. To forgive. To charm.</p><p>“And, I just… Well I just want you to know that I'm not the sort of woman who hangs out in bars in the daytime, getting as drunk as a lord and, well, you know. In broom cupboards. With strangers. Or with anyone. I'm just not. It was an exceptional day”</p><p>“Well, if it was an exceptional day, I'm glad I was there to witness it. We shall never see the likes of that afternoon again”</p><p>Ann feels the mood lightening. “Ooh! Stop being sarcastic! It's true. I have never once done any of those things, ever. And never will again”</p><p>“Ah, I also have to say that I am absolutely not the sort of cad who pulls tipsy girls I have only just met into broom cupboards, so I get to know them more intimately. This was also an exceptional afternoon for me, Miss Walker”</p><p>Anne bows her head towards Ann, and smirks. Ann hears the unlikely words, and catches the smirk. She bats Anne over the head, lightly, will her open hand. Her fingers dragging lightly through Anne's hair.</p><p>“That's not true, and you know it! You would have pulled anyone into that cupboard”</p><p>Anne had been looking down at her hands, nestled in her lap, but raises her head at the remark.</p><p>“No, Ann. That really isn't true. Only you, and I really don't do that sort of thing. Well, I did once upon a time, many years ago. 20 years ago. That's most of your life, isn't it dear girl? But not now. And never in Halifax. I don't know what came over me, to be honest. I just wanted you, and that desire seemed to be returned”</p><p>"Desire, hmm” Ann, says, looking at Anne, her hand still in her hair. “Well, it's hardly a surprise to me that I called your name when we, well, you know. I called your name the very first time, the very first time I touched myself. You were gardening for my mother that summer, and you’d been there all day. I'd been watching you from the window. It was such a hot day, and I couldn't take my eyes off of you. I'd never felt like that before, I was on fire. That night, I was still aching. So unfamiliar, but so consuming. When I went to bed, I started to touch where it ached, and I imagined it was you. I'd never felt pleasure so intense. I came all over my hand, I had no idea girls did that. They didn’t mention that in social studies. And after that, I just never stopped. For so many years, it was only you I ever thought of. It was always you”</p><p>“And what was it you thought of?” Replies Anne, not quite as surprised by this revelation as she perhaps ought to be.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Well, how did my hand end up touching my employers’ teenage daughter like that?” She husked.</p><p>“Well, I had been brave enough to go outside”</p><p>“Hmm...”</p><p>“And spoken to you”</p><p>“Ok...”</p><p>“And I'd told you how I could not take my eyes off of you, and I wanted to see if you felt as good as you looked”</p><p>“Ok, pretty forward for a school girl, but I’m into this"</p><p>“Yeah, I know, but dreams allow you to do anything. So! You put your hands on my hips and you kissed me, and I had my hands all over you. Your abs, your back, your arms. And I was getting so hot, just thinking about us really doing that. And the ache became a throb, so in my dream we were now in one of the sheds, and I laid on a pile of tomato grow bags-“</p><p>“OK, excellent attention to detail”</p><p>“And I pulled you on top of me, and you started stroking me. Down there. And I was so wet, and thinking about your weight on me, you touching me. I just fell apart, with your name on my lips”</p><p>They gaze at one another. Until Anne says, her voice thick, but trying to sound light-hearted.</p><p>“Good God, girl. You had it bad, didn’t you? Mind you, I did look fantastic back then. I'm can hardly be surprised I had such an effect on the baby gay down the road”</p><p>“You arrogant swine! Honestly, I've just told you something so personal to me, so mortifyingly embarrassing, and all you can do is feel smug!” Ann slaps her, playfully.</p><p>“Well, what else would you expect me to say?” Anne ducks away from the blow, smiling “You've just told me I had a starring role in your school girl wet dreams, and for years afterwards too. You do know how incredibly flattering that is? How else did you expect me to react?” Anne leans in a little, following Ann’s hand, as she tugs her hair a little at the roots.</p><p>“I wanted it to make you want to see if I'm as wet today as I was then” Ann looks directly into Anne’s eyes.</p><p>Anne leans back, takes Ann’s hand from her hair. “Oh, oh so that’s it? Hmm? Is that what all this was all about? And there was I, secretly worried that I had disappointed you, in the flesh”</p><p>Ann is shocked, and sad that Anne no longer wants her to touch her. “How could you disappoint me?”</p><p>“Ah, I don’t know. Fantasy and reality are two very different things” Anne laughs, gruffly. </p><p>“But you are my fantasy and my reality. All at once”</p><p>“Hmm. I could get you to treat me like a God. I could do anything I wanted with you?”</p><p>“Anything at all”</p><p>“I have to say, I'm utterly beguiled, my dear. Tell me more about how you adore me, and always have!” Anne laughs long, and loud.</p><p>“You can joke, but you are truly God like, to me. I've worshipped you for as long as I can remember”</p><p>“Hmm, well I-“ Anne isn’t really sure what to make of this curious girl.</p><p>“And now I have you, I'm on fire every day. I ache all the time, unless you're actually inside me. And then I just feel as though I'm teetering on the edge of an explosion” Ann looks over at Anne, she just appears to be stunned. Mouth open, her coffee gone cold. </p><p>“Ah, well, for the second time in my life, I'm speechless again! I shall have to enter this in my diary ‘today Miss Walker twice rendered me speechless’!” Anne crawls up onto the bed, nuzzling her face into Ann’s hand as she reaches out to her.</p><p>Anne is soon laid on Ann's bed, with Ann next to her, on her back, head on her pillow, one hand on her tummy the other stroking Ann's cheek. She leans over, and kisses her. Ann relaxes into her, returning the kisses with increasing urgency. Within minutes, Ann is breathless, writhing against Anne’s body, pressing into her.</p><p>Anne leans Ann back against the pillows, resting herself on one arm, gazing down at Ann. Her other hand inches up Ann’s thigh, pressing her thighs. She strokes Ann’s tummy gently as she kisses her, immediately passionate. At last, she begins to circle Ann's clit with just one finger, softly, slowly, as languid in her movement as their deepening kiss had been. Ann's legs part ever so slightly, Anne's ministrations taking in more of Ann's folds below her gusset, moving her wetness around with her fingers, always returning to her clit, stroking it so lightly, teasing Ann terribly.</p><p>Ann, still wholly engaged in the kiss, raises her hips, widens her legs, and Anne's fingers brush her entrance. Ann begins to circle her hips, raising them, lowering them, chasing Anne's fingers. She moves towards her, closer, chasing contact, desperately seeking fulfilment.</p><p>The kiss becomes desperate, sloppy. Ann's breathing now erratic, heavy, moaning, panting. Anne leans over to kiss her throat, sucking the pulse, dragging her teeth along the column. Pulling her sweater up, Anne kisses her breasts, open mouthed, sucking lightly, finding a nipple, and nipping and licking and sucking it over the fine lace of the bra, as she presses a little harder onto Ann's clit, Ann cries out, mewling loudly. The light strokes now firm rubs. Ann's legs fly open, bucking her hips.</p><p> </p><p>“Anne please, I'm ready” Ann whimpers. </p><p>“For what? What more do you want?”</p><p>“Get on top of me, please” Ann breathes.</p><p>“Well aren't you the commanding little thing? Hmm? Spreading your legs, rutting and panting”</p><p>“Oh God!” She hisses “Pin me down! Hold me down and fuck me”</p><p>“You dirty little girl! You need to be careful what you wish for!” Anne lowers in her ear, her lips brush Ann’s lobe as she speaks. Lightening shoots to Ann’s clit.</p><p>“Please!” Ann hisses. </p><p>Anne jumps up, and climbs between her legs, drags her up towards her by her thighs, Ann's head off of the pillow, neck cricked to one side, looking at her.</p><p>“Now, you stay there, because I'm going to take my time with you”</p><p>“Nooo! I need you now” Ann’s little hands are in her hair, around her neck, pulling her down.</p><p>“Really? Like that is it?”</p><p>Anne pulls Ann up, takes her twinset off, and immediately Anne is dragging her further down the bed, as she moves over her. Ann gasps. Anne licks the girls’ tummy, up in between her breasts, then under her breasts, finding a nipple to tug on lightly, moving to its twin, tugging again, this time with teeth, and a swipe of her tongue. Anne’s head is full of Ann’s cries, her breathing, and the wet sound of Ann’s wet clit being bought to the brink of orgasm, as Anne continues a steady pattern of stroking and pressing.</p><p>Anne moves lower, biting, sucking, her hands dragging on Ann's thighs. Ann’s cries and moans fill the room, giving in to Anne, and learning how to take things slowly.</p><p>Ann’s mobile rings sporadically throughout the day, and into the evening, the lovers too engrossed in one another to care. It was her land line ringing off the hook first thing Sunday morning that finally saw Ann Walker pad down the stairs, wearing nothing but Anne Lister’s dress shirt.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. The Telephone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just smut. Plain and simple. But with a twist.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Many thanks for all your lovely comments!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Just as Ann answers the phone, the caller rings off. She is just placing the receiver down, when she feels Anne's hands on her waist, wrapping around her, drawing her back into Anne's body. Her lover has joined her, now wearing her bra and knickers. </p><p>Ann was about to spin around, kiss Anne as a greeting for the morning. But Anne was now so close, her grip on Ann so tight. Her mouth breathing hot, wet kisses along her neck. Ann gasps, her hips bucking back into Anne.</p><p>"Good morning, beautiful" breathes Anne, into her girl's neck. Licking, then nipping at the skin under Ann's delicate ear. </p><p>Ann's breathing changes. Her mouth suddenly dry, it's thick when she swallows. Anne's hands drop to Ann's hips, massaging her hip bones, pressing into her, massaging her naked bottom, kneading it. Moving the dress shirt up over her waist. Higher still, Anne palms her full, heavy breasts from behind. </p><p>"Bend forward" Anne hisses, her voice wavering with lust. Ann melts into her, leaning back to receive another swipe of Anne's tongue close to her ear, before following her command.</p><p>Anne's hand traces down Ann's spine, down further, between her cheeks, before lightly circling Ann's anus. Swiftly moving to circle her extremely wet, naked entrance. She presses her right middle finger into her girls delectably wet tight pussy. Ann is silent, holding her breath. Anne withdraws, pushes back inside her lover, this time a little deeper. After three thrusts, each deeper still, Anne's knuckles are pressed right up against her, in Ann right up to the hilt. </p><p>"You're very quiet, my girl. Are you wondering what else happens to girls who walk around in my shirt, and no underwear?"</p><p>"Hmm!"</p><p>"They get fucked hard. And then, fucked harder. Is that what you want? Because you're going about the right way to get it!"</p><p>"Yes!!!"</p><p>Anne adds a second finger, Ann's palms slide on the polished wood of the table, as her fingers scrabble to grip the table edge, the telephone right in front of her, bending over a little more, Anne slipping deeper inside, amply aided by her girls slickness. Anne builds a swift pace, rocking increasingly hard into Ann, until Ann can't be silent any longer. She gasps, as though coming up for air. Her throat constricted, moaning as Anne fucks her, the intensity increasing. The slap of Anne's palm on her drenched folds, her fingers pushing diligently into Ann's tight wet hole, echoes around the room. The sucking sounds as Ann attempts to hold onto her, draw her back inside, are utterly delightful. Ann thrusts back into her lover, harder, trying to increase the pace, Anne pulling back a little as she does so. </p><p>Ann can feel her orgasm build, slowly but surely. Anne thrusting into her harder, faster, and then. Ann is panting, gasping. She's on the very edge.</p><p>The phone starts to ring again. </p><p>Anne doesn't slow her pace, continuing to fuck her </p><p>"Answer the phone, Ann"</p><p>"Hmm, what?"</p><p>"Answer the phone. Whoever it is can't see you. They won't know what you're doing" she whispers, as though it were a secret between the two of them.</p><p>"Ah, I can't. I can't. My breathing!" Ann tries to laugh, but it sticks in her dry throat. "That will give me away"</p><p>The phone continues to ring.</p><p>"Answer the phone. Before I do!" Warns Anne.</p><p>Ann grabs the receiver, and answers. All she can feel is the heat between her legs building again, Anne thrusting deep, Ann matching her thrusts with another, every time.</p><p>"Hello?" Ann answers. Anne curls her fingers, thrusts back inside her. Ann tries, and largely fails, to swallow a groan.</p><p>"Ann! Where have you been?" It's Catherine. "I've been calling you all night! Everyone's been trying to get hold of you. Eliza Priestley called me yesterday, worried to death about you! She's been calling everyone. Had us all worried!"</p><p>Anne is pounding into her now, hearing it's Catherine gives her a little more license than had it been her sister. </p><p>"Hmm... ah! You see, hmm... I've been busy. Catherine, can I call you back?" </p><p>Ann doesn't wait for a reply. She cannot wait, she has to hang up. Once she has, Ann cums, keening and gasping, wetness flooding down her legs. Anne kneels to lap at her. </p><p>"Hmm. Now, upstairs. I have a surprise for you, seeing how much you loved that!" Anne kisses her on the back of the head, as she rises. "My lovely girl"</p><p>And Ann scurries up the stairs, whilst Anne heads to the back of the sofa. It's where she left the strap on, when she brought it in from the car. She steps in the harness, tightening the straps. The cock already in the ring. She scales the stairs, no time to lose. </p><p>Ann feels amazing. She has never felt so special. So desirable. So seen. Anne staying all night meant more time to talk. To be close to one another. Curled up in Anne's arms all night. To get to know one another, to have sex, increasingly gentle sex. But now what? Ann waits on the edge of the bed, unsure.</p><p>Anne waits at the door when she arrives.</p><p>"Ann? Go and stand by the dressing table. Make sure you stand in the middle. Lean over as far as you can, and close your eyes"</p><p>Ann does what she is told. She now has a very good idea what is about to happen.</p><p>Anne approaches her from behind, her cock standing proud, ready for action. Ann leans right over, her forearms flat on the dressing table, looking in the mirror, right into her own eyes. Anne knows her girl is more than ready. She angles the tip at her entrance. </p><p>Ann presses back, sighing, moaning, her body taking Anne's cock, deeper and deeper, as Anne's hips rock into her. Ann is shocked to see her reflection, her mouth open in a perfect 'O', as she gasps when she is entered. The girl in the mirror looks utterly debauched. Anne thrusts into her harder, deeper, her eyes roll in her head, her low moans become cries, her soft gasps become loud mewls. </p><p>Anne finds her stride quickly, her breathing heavy, pumping hard, feeling she could come, trying to hold it together long enough to seriously unravel her girl. Ann is grunting and sweating. A scene from a porn film, where she is the star reflected back at her, every time she opens her eyes to look in the mirror. Her mouth slack, her eyes rolling in her head. Groaning, whining, mewling.</p><p>"Such a dirty girl" husks Anne "only dirty girls mew for cock" </p><p>Ann watches herself in the mirror, getting fucked hard from behind, rocking into the mirror, mouth wide, grunting. She can't watch this. Her face burning with embarrassment. It's like she is watching someone else. Another girl being pounded hard by Anne Lister, another girl crying, mewling under her ministrations. </p><p>"Tell me how much you love to be fucked"</p><p>"Ah, Ah! I love it. Hmmmm!"</p><p>"Look at yourself when you answer me!"</p><p>Anne draws Ann's face upwards, pulling her by her hair. Her eyes open.</p><p>"Say 'I love to be fucked! Fuck me harder'"</p><p> </p><p>Anne's mobile breaks the tension, ringing loudly on the dressing table. Anne slams her hand down on the handset to silence it. She isn't in the mood to play the 'answer the phone' game herself.</p><p>Anne hisses, reminding her girl of her command. "Say it!"</p><p>"I love to be fucked! Hmmm! Fuck me harder!"</p><p>Anne's pace begins to increase.<br/>
"You love cock, dont you? Hmm? Love being filled by my cock, hmm?"</p><p>"I do. I love your cock. Oh, Anne! So full! Hnng!!!"</p><p> </p><p>Tib is gobsmacked! She had only called Anne to find out what time they would be meeting later today, and where. Anne's emails in the week had suggested she had found a new interest, but she hadn't said what a wild little thing she had found. Tib isn't silly enough to drop the call. She listens in, taking her phone to her sofa, and touching herself as she hears how much the girl wants Anne to fuck her. Tib knows the feeling. It's been a great many years since she and Anne had last had sex, but she still remembers how it felt. She tries to catch up with them, her breathing soon becoming ragged as Anne's little plaything screams and cries to be filled. Anne's low tones, making further demands of her. </p><p>"Look at yourself! Come on!" Anne pulls Ann's head up again. "You have to see the effect I have on you"</p><p>"Hmmm"</p><p>"Tell me about how it feels"</p><p>"Ooh, it's hot. Hmm. It's hard"</p><p>Anne is close, but she can't come before the girl. She bends over her, goes to lick her ear.</p><p>"You like that? Hmm?"</p><p>"Oh yes. Oh Anne!"</p><p>"I want to feel you come for me"</p><p>"Yesss!"</p><p>"Are you going to cum, sweetheart?"</p><p>"Uggh!" Ann's throat is filled with salvia all of a sudden. She drools a little as she opens her mouth to speak, watching herself as she does so. "Yessss!"she hisses.</p><p>"Hmm, I can feel you fluttering on my cock, my lovely girl. You are so close"</p><p>Anne pushes her hands up over Ann's breasts, and begins pulling her nipples as she fills her from behind. </p><p>Ann is yelling, incoherent noise, her pussy flooding, it becoming increasingly difficult to determine where one body ends, and the other begins. </p><p>Ann's head is slack, but Anne hasn't finished with her. She continues to pound into her girl at a furious pace. Ann's legs cannot long hold her up any more. She is slumped over her dressing table, the noises emitting from her throughly depraved. Her hands grasping at air. </p><p>"Hmm, so wet for me again! You really are delicious. It is lovely to have such a wet and willing little thing to play with. You are truly glorious, you filthy little whore"</p><p>Ann can no longer speak. She is simply flesh, and sound. Her moans increase, her cries frantic. Ann shudders.</p><p>"Hmm! Oh God! Anne!"</p><p> </p><p>Tib is almost there. What a degenerate little creature Anne has found this time! She wonders if this little tart will cum for her like that, too? If Anne is still happy to share her good fortune? </p><p> </p><p>Anne reaches around her girl, stroking the girls clit. Two brushes, and Ann is screaming for Anne. Hearing her girl cum, Anne thrusts become erratic. She cums, moaning, slumping over her lovers prone body. Exhausted. Gasping for air. </p><p> </p><p>Breathless and sated, Tib finally drops the call.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Too Early for Port?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our ladies get dressed for their day ahead, and Tib gives Marian a lift back to Shibden.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for my tardiness - I have been kept away from my writing by someone who ought to know better x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tib has taken an age to pack for the next few days away, and now after a welcome, yet unexpected session listening to Anne fuck some bit of skirt over the phone, she was later than usual leaving for Halifax.</p><p>It has been some years since she was last invited to Shibden. To say that Aunt Anne Lister had raised Anne, she could be a real prude at times. Anne had warned her for years that her bawdy humour offended her Aunt, until eventually Anne simply stopped inviting her, and they only met in York or Paris, or when Anne stayed with her in Malton. Things must be bad, Tib had thought, when Anne had called her in tears, saying she wanted her in Halifax. The emails she has sent made Tib’s heart go out to her old school friend. Her latest breakup had seemed to have devastated her. And yet, it turns out she had got over that Vere sort quick enough, and found a shiny new toy. Anne hasn’t mentioned this girl at all before, but what an introduction! Tib can’t wait to meet her, intrigued as to what plans Anne has for the three of them. </p><p> </p><p>“No, Anne! You’re insatiable!” Ann complains as she reaches her bedroom, when Anne Lister starts to unbutton the shirt Ann is wearing. </p><p>“My dear, this is my shirt. I simply mean to leave this house properly dressed” Anne breathes into her ear. </p><p>“Hmm, Ok! I believe you! Thousands wouldn’t!” She allows the shirt to be unbuttoned, opened, and as soon as it is, Anne’s arms are around her, caressing her bare flesh. </p><p>“Anne!” </p><p>Ann protests, but without any real conviction. Soon they’re on her bed, Ann’s hands pinned above her head, her legs wrapped around Anne, gasping for air as Anne enters her again. </p><p>“Tell me how much you want me” Anne growls in her ear.</p><p>“Oh, Oh, I want you! Oh God!” and Ann is hurtling towards the edge once again. When her lover begins to suck and then finally, bite down hard on her neck, Ann finds herself howling with pleasure. </p><p> </p><p>“So! I really do have to go now” Anne explains, as she tucks her shirt back into her trousers, watching Ann put a clean pink blouse on over a simple grey wool skirt. “You do have one of your little scarves to match this ensemble? Hmm?” Anne queries, as she moves towards her. </p><p>“Hmm? Yes, but I wasn’t going to-“</p><p>“Oh, my dear, I fear you will have to today. Have you seen your neck in the mirror?” Anne reaches out, to touch her neck, where she has branded her girl. </p><p>Ann heads off for the dressing table mirror, and gasps when she sees the state of her throat and collar bone. </p><p>“Anne! I have to go out of the house! I will have to go to work like this tomorrow!”</p><p>“Hmm, yes. And you can. Wearing a scarf” purrs Anne, as she wraps her arms around her girls’ waist, drawing her in and nuzzling her ear. </p><p>Ann bats her off and goes to a drawer, taking out a grey silk square, tying it around her neck in a pretty bow. </p><p>“Seriously, though” Ann addresses her, unsure of how to word what she wants to say. “What are we going to do about Eliza Priestley?”</p><p>“Ah, well! I have been thinking about that, and I think we should just head round there to visit her. Not today, I can’t as my dear friend Tib is arriving at Shibden anytime now” she says, checking her watch “but perhaps tomorrow? We should go together, iron out any misconceptions she might have”</p><p>“Misconceptions? What do you believe she might have misconstrued? She walked in on us. Having sex” Ann whispers the last part, unable to meet Anne’s eye. </p><p>“Yes, that’s right, she did ‘walk in’ on us. Surely she should knock? And why does she have her own key to your house?”</p><p>“She has her key, because sometimes she needs it, when I am particularly low. I don’t always want to answer the door then, so she comes to bring me food, or just to check on me. She’s been worried these last few weeks”</p><p>“Of course. Your fiancé who passed. You told me you were out to your family. But not to Eliza?”</p><p>“No! Eliza, well, I just didn’t think she would understand. And I didn’t think she would need to know. My sister knows, and Catherine. They’re my closest family, really”</p><p>“And they didn’t find it odd you were marrying a man?”</p><p>“Well, yes. But I had my reasons. I hadn’t had a relationship before. With anyone. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, and he felt the same, so-“</p><p>“So you and he were, what? Friends?”</p><p>“Yes. We didn’t see one another very much, but he understood me. And I him. And that would have been enough”</p><p>Anne moves in to hug her. </p><p>“No, it wouldn’t have been”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because you would still have met me at some point, now I’m back. And this would still have happened” She kisses Ann deeply. “Although I am very pleased I got to unveil that bridal lingerie. That was what it was, no? What you were wearing?”</p><p>Ann blushes furiously. “Yes, I just wanted to wear it when I went out. It is pretty, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Yes, almost as pretty as you, my sweet” This time when they kiss, it’s somehow softer.</p><p>“Ok! Enough!” Ann pushes her back “I thought your friend was waiting for you! And I have a lot of missed calls to attend to. Go!”</p><p>“Why don’t you meet me later? I can introduce you to Tib? We were going to go to Nest again, and I know you like it there”</p><p>“Why not? What time?”</p><p>“Shall we say 7pm? We will be having dinner, if you want to join us?”</p><p>“That would be lovely. I shall be there for 7 then” She gives Anne a quick peck, and follows her out of the door to the stairs. </p><p>“God knows who was ringing me all yesterday, but they’ve waited long enough, haven’t they? Do you think Eliza has told people? Already?”</p><p>“Ann, It doesn’t matter if she has, does it? Are you ashamed?” Anne looks at her, wary, fearing what Ann is about to say.</p><p>“No, of course not” And with this simple statement, Ann finally meets Anne’s gaze. “I would just sooner tell people myself. But Catherine pretty much already knows. And I am sure that Elizabeth has guessed, so?” she smiles. Anne reaches out to hold her face, and Ann leans into it. Her lashes flutter in Anne’s palm. </p><p>“Well, that’s alright then”</p><p>Ann unlocks her door, and Anne leaves with a huge smile on her face. She turns, walking backwards  to her car “7pm! Don’t forget!”</p><p>“How could I?” Ann is beaming as she watches her lover drive away. </p><p> </p><p>Marian can hear the gravel smashing behind her, as she walks up the lane to the house. She just knows without turning around that it’s her sister, and frankly, she can wait. She didn’t return home last night, after being out from the morning. And Marian knows exactly why! Her sister is incapable of keeping her trousers on, and later today her equally repugnant friend will be joining her, to get up to God only knows what. The coming week promises to be horrendous, with Anne being Anne, and Tib goading her on, and Marian still has all the cleaning and the laundry to do from the cottages still being used by walking groups. Yes, thinks Marian, you can bloody well wait! And she continues, walking up the middle of the lane, the car travelling close behind her. </p><p>“Marian my girl! Would you appreciate a lift?” booms a voice behind. Marian turns, to find a Landrover, with Isabella Norcliffe hanging out of the drivers’ window. She slows to a stop, and Marian smiles. Tib’s alright, really. Marian had forgotten how nice she is. She smiles as she hops in, putting her cleaning bucket and supplies on the back seat.  </p><p>“Thanks, Tib. That lane seems to get longer when I’ve been cleaning all morning”</p><p>“Not a problem! You are looking well, I must say” Tib’s eyes scan Marian, her messy bun, her old jeans and sweaty t-shirt. Marian smiles, and instantly Tib can see Anne in her. “And where is James’ old Jag? Out to pasture?”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t get to drive it, not now the ‘Lord of the Manor’ has returned to grace us all with her presence!”</p><p>“I see that Anne is still in your bad books?”</p><p>“She’s been out all day, all last night, if you must know. I doubt she’ll be there to greet you when we get back to the house. She’s had her phone turned off since yesterday afternoon. But, you know what she’s like!”</p><p>“A rotter! And a cad!” laughs Tib.</p><p>“She’s an arsehole” states Marian, plainly. </p><p> </p><p>When they pull up outside the back entrance to Shibden, Marian’s prediction was right, and Uncle James’ green Jag still hasn’t been returned. Tib jumps out, and grabs Marian’s bucket for her. She grabs her own bag too. </p><p>“Lead the way, my dear! I have this!” and the two walk through the back door, and into the kitchen. “So, where has she been, do you think?” Tib wonders if Marian knows who Anne’s plaything is. </p><p>“Well, yesterday she was making a nuisance of herself at Ann Walker’s. She’s a friend of mine and Aunt Anne’s. She lives nearby. She had a bereavement recently, and Anne, if the town gossip has any truth to it, seems to have found a unique cure for her ills. But I doubt she stayed there long! When you see her, you can ask her why she needed to wash her car bonnet after she came home on Friday night” Marian cocks her head at Tib. </p><p>“I see my dearest chum hasn’t allowed the years to change her one bit!” Tib laughs, heartily “But you are of course right. She really ought to keep her end up in the cleaning and washing stakes. She isn’t fair to you at all, is she, my dear girl?” Tib is getting a bit too close to Marian for comfort now. </p><p>“Well, I shall get you a drink. Tea? It is still early”</p><p>“If it’s too early for a glass of port, then what are you doing up?” Laughs Tib. </p><p>Marian rolls her eyes, and leaves the room for the drinks cabinet in the dining room. She calls back “It will be a small one, until Anne arrives!”</p><p>“Actually Marian, scratch that! I have booked a table for Anne and myself, in just shy of two hours! If I meander down the hill now, you can tell her to join me when she gets here. Shall I leave my bag here, or take it up to the spare?”</p><p>“Oh” Marian sticks her head around the door. “I can take it up for you. See you later?”</p><p>“Of course you shall, unless we return after you have gone to bed!” </p><p> </p><p>And with that, Tib is off down the road.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Anne Will</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eliza Priestley has been doing the rounds...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A chapter without sex? Well I never! Only so much smut one can write in a day...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After leaving Ann’s she had headed into Halifax to buy a new shirt and new underwear. Seeing as it looked increasingly likely that she would be staying with Ann more and more, she needed to give a good impression on the undercrackers front. Whilst there, she purchased a few choice items for Ann. She reckoned she could guess her size, having both held her, and viewed her from many positions over the past week. She bought a simple set in white lace, and another set in black lace. If she had a preference, it would be neither. In her opinion, Ann doesn’t need underwear. But, she has noticed that Ann seems to like pretty lingerie, and her girl deserves something beautiful, as a gift from her lover. </p><p>She is then waylaid at a bookshop, scanning the shelves for something she knew not what, Finally, she finds herself wandering in to a coffee shop, where an especially buxom young woman always seemed to be on shift on Sunday. She bought an espresso, and waited at the counter drinking it, ordering an Americano to take out, so she would have the chance to stand and watch the well-developed young woman bend and stretch as she worked. When the girl caught her staring, she didn’t look away, but smiled. Eventually though, it was the girl who looked away first, blushing furiously. Anne was beaming as she left, with the girls’ phone number in her pocket. Harriet. Pretty name for a very, very pretty girl. She really had no intention whatsoever of calling her. None at all. She has Ann to think about, after all. Her heart smiles when she thinks of Ann. When she finishes the coffee, she drops the note with the number on it into the cup, and throws them both away.  </p><p>Anne is thrilled when she sees Tib’s Landrover in the drive, as she arrives home just before 6pm. She bounds into the hall, finding it almost silent. Where on earth could Tib be? You could usually hear her long before you laid eyes on her. It’s then that Aunt Anne walks through to the kitchen, and sees her. </p><p>“Oh, Anne! Where on earth have you been? I would have been terribly worried had we not thought you must be staying at Lydgate. How is Ann?”</p><p>“Staying at Lydgate? Actually, yes, I was! And Miss Walker is excellent! Seems to be in good spirits! Not sure what you and Mrs Priestley were worried about! Where is Tib?” </p><p>“Isabella told Marian that she was going to the restaurant you’re booked in at early, and wait for you there. So, she will have been at the bar a good hour or more now, and you know what she’s like, Anne!” Aunt Anne’s tone conveyed more than a warning. There was a slight edge of panic there too. </p><p>“Goodness, Ok, well I shall have to get out as quickly as possible!” Anne attempts to get past her aunt, but finds her aunt follows her, and she soon finds herself cornered in the housebody before the stairs, by both Marian and her Aunt.  Her Aunt speaks first:</p><p>“Anne, Eliza Priestley called around here yesterday” Aunt Anne tells her, never breaking eye contact with her.</p><p>“Did she?” Anne looks quickly away. She can’t look her aunt in the eye. She can only wonder what is coming next. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes. Couldn't wait to tell me you'd been up to your old tricks again. Only this time with Miss Walker”</p><p>Anne is stunned. What a disgraceful person Eliza Priestley is! Telling tales about her, a business woman, in her 40s, to her Aunt. Aunt Anne really doesn’t need to know about such things.</p><p>“Hmm? Really? Wasn't it both you and Eliza who wanted me to go over there to see her?” Anne wonders just how explicit Eliza was prepared to go. Not very, she wouldn’t have thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Not like that, Anne! Good Lord! I had hoped you would talk to her. Get to know her”</p><p>Right, so Eliza really has told all. Whilst Anne is considering how to get out of this conversation, and do so with style, Marian pipes up:</p><p> </p><p>“That's not all she's been doing. She's been up to all sorts!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh shut up Marian!” Anne turns on her sister immediately. “Why is she even here?” </p><p>She waves dismissively in Marian’s direction. Aunt Anne looks at Marian, and Marian responds with a huff before heading back to the kitchen. Her aunt pulls Anne down by her hand, to sit next to her on the sofa, and Anne sits. Her aunt reaches for her cheek, and brushes it as a parent might touch their sleeping child.</p><p> </p><p>“Anne, I worry about you. I want to see you settled, but – well”</p><p> </p><p>“I know it doesn't look good, I can only imagine what Eliza told you-“ </p><p>Aunt Anne interrupts her. “Oh, she didn’t hold back. Don’t you worry! Goodness knows where else she has been! Oh, Anne! You know that this is a small town, and you know people talk. And what Eliza is telling people? Well. Let’s just say that it isn’t very nice”</p><p> </p><p>“I do know. I do. I will go to see Eliza, and I will sort it. I will. And whoever else she has told. I will sort this” Frustrated. She’ll rip Eliza a new arsehole, she thinks. </p><p> </p><p>“And Miss Walker? What about her?”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean? She's alright” Anne says, defensive.</p><p> </p><p>“No, Anne! What I mean is how is she going to feel about people talking about her? Like that? Because one of her cousins collared Marian first thing this morning, just to tell her all about you and Ann, on the off chance she didn’t already know”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok. I'll deal with it. I'm seeing her later, and I will talk to her about it”</p><p> </p><p>“You're seeing her again today?” Quizzical. Isn’t Isabella here for the next few days?</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. We are having dinner together” Anne starts to shuffle, she needs to be heading off.</p><p>“With Isabella?” Incredulous.</p><p>“Yes, I want to introduce her to Tib. Tib’s my oldest friend” Anne defends. She loves Tib, and she, well, Ann might become important to her too, over time.</p><p>“Ah, well yes, I know she is. But Isabella can be a lot. And you and Isabella can be a hell of a lot together” </p><p>“Well, I want to introduce Ann to Tib, and I really don’t think that will be a problem at all”</p><p>“Well, you know Ann differently to us. You will know what’s best”</p><p>Anne stands, and makes for the stairs, checking her watch. It’s 6.25pm. No time at all to get ready. It will have to be a quick wash, and off. </p><p> </p><p>As soon as Anne’s car is out of sight, Ann wanders back into her home, grinning like the cat who got the cream. She just can’t believe everything that has happened this week. Just 7 days ago, she stood on this very spot, she thinks, talking to Elizabeth and Catherine about going to Nest. And last night she had Anne Lister stay the night with her. And she is wonderful, she’s exciting. Absolutely everything Ann had hoped she would be when she had had a crush on her as a girl. </p><p>She knew that Eliza Priestley would be a prickly old sod about her seeing Anne, that she will dine out for weeks, telling people how she had walked in on them, but Ann just doesn’t care. She doesn’t remember a time when she was happier, and Anne Lister has made that happen. Ann doesn’t have to worry about what anyone else thinks now. It’s Anne’s opinion that counts. No one else.</p><p>Ann didn’t want to look at her mobile. She wishes she had asked Anne to check it for her. All the missed calls, all the unread texts. She just doesn’t want to know. She does fear, a little, what Eliza might have said, and who she might have said it to. Most of the calls are from Elizabeth. She called 37 times yesterday. Wow. Ok. And most texts are from Catherine. 59 of them. She has called her too. 33 missed calls. Ann takes a deep breath. She calls Elizabeth.</p><p>Elizabeth had been truly frantic. Eliza Priestley’s call yesterday wasn’t entirely out of the blue. She often rings to keep Elizabeth updated on Ann’s health and wellbeing, but yesterday was something else altogether. It was clear from the start something catastrophic had happened.  </p><p>What Mrs Priestley had to tell her, Elizabeth really wasn’t prepared for. Her little sister, naked, having sex with Anne Lister in the kitchen on a Saturday lunchtime. With Eliza Priestley walking in on them. She told her how Elizabeth should know how predatory Anne Lister was, and poor Ann must have been drunk! Or drugged! Something, at least. How Elizabeth must return to Lydgate immediately, to see what has happened to her sister. Initially Elizabeth was floored. She knew that Ann adored Anne Lister and had obsessed over her for years. But how Mrs Priestley had described the scene frightened Elizabeth. Anne Lister was so much older than Ann, and Elizabeth always got the impression that Ann had not had much experience sexually. She didn’t really know. Neither of them had ever talked about that sort of thing. The act Mrs Priestley was so keen to describe didn’t sound like the sort of thing Ann would want, surely?</p><p>Elizabeth was so worried when Ann wasn’t answering her phone, she rang Catherine Rawson instead. She too had had a phone call from Mrs Priestley, but she was less surprised, and far less shocked. Catherine had laughed at Eliza’s assertion that Ann would have had to be drunk or drugged. Ann had been borrowing clothes to go on dates. She had been buying underwear too, so yeah, even though Ann hadn’t really admitted to anything, she was clearly sleeping with Anne Lister. Catherine was only horrified by Eliza’s reaction, knowing her gossipy ways.<br/>
Elizabeth knows Ann won’t appreciate Mrs Priestley telling people about it all, and worries about how Ann will be feeling now. Elizabeth answers at the start of the second ring.</p><p>“Ann! I’ve been so worried!”</p><p>“Have you? Why?” Ann feels suddenly guarded. “Did you get a phone call from Mrs Priestley?”</p><p>“Yes, she –“</p><p>“I can imagine what she said” Ann didn’t want Elizabeth to say the words, and she didn’t want to either “She, um, well she, she walked in on me. And Anne. And I’m sorry she called you. I’m not sorry you know about Anne and I, because that has been going ok so far, and –“</p><p>“Ann, how long have you been seeing her? She’s older than you are, and, well. Are you sure that, well, THAT is what you want?” Elizabeth whispered the last part, like a dirty secret was being shared.</p><p>“What do you mean by THAT?” Ann feels threatened. </p><p>“I mean what Mrs Priestley walked in on. That’s not you, is it?”</p><p>“Actually Elizabeth that is me. Yes, it is me. THAT is what I want, so yes, it’s me” </p><p>“Oh, well. In that case, no wonder Catherine Rawson wasn’t shocked”</p><p>“Catherine? What do you mean?”</p><p>“Well, I couldn’t get hold of you, could I? You were busy” Ann bristles at the innuendo “Anyway, she said that she knew you were with Anne Lister now, and she wasn’t shocked when Mrs Priestley called her”</p><p>“She called Catherine too? Oh, what a rotten thing to do. Who else will she have told?”</p><p>“Well, Catherine told me that she saw Marian Lister this morning, and she knew. Mrs Priestley had been around to Shibden Hall, to tell Miss Lister’s - or is it just Anne now? - Aunt and Marian. She’s done the rounds, that is for sure. Oh Ann! Shall I come back down? Give her hell for you?”</p><p>“No, you don’t need to do that. Anne will”</p>
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<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Don't Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tib!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, the updates have slowed, and for that you can blame someone other than myself ;)</p><p>All of your comments are read, and thoroughly appreciated! I know I don't reply to them all, but thank you for following this!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ann bounces out of the house, ready to make her way to meet Anne and her friend, smiling like a fool. It’s excitement she feels as she walks down the hill into Halifax. First, finally having a girlfriend. Someone who wants to spend their time with her. Someone who desires her. Second, Anne Lister is her girlfriend, the very idea of this is completely intoxicating. And third, her girlfriend, Anne Lister, wants her to meet her best and oldest friend. Ann already knows Anne’s family, so this feels like a big deal, a first step in being a real couple. Happiness exudes from her, grinning at everyone she passes. She’s would even smile at Eliza Priestley if she saw her now, she thinks. She would ask for her key back too! The very idea that Anne Lister would take her seriously, would show any interest in her at all really, makes Ann feel invincible.</p><p>Anne races out of the door, barely saying goodbye to her Aunt as she goes, hoping that Tib hasn’t had too much to drink already. She’s always a nightmare when she’s been drinking, yet she can also be the kindest and least judgemental person anyone could ever meet. Having met at school, they spent the whole of their young lives together. They even dated, briefly, but that was never going to work as really they both chased after the same type, and neither of them was it.<br/>
The walk gives Anne a chance to think. Ann Walker. Well, that was a turn up for the books, wasn’t it? What that girl has hiding under all that dusty tweed is quite something. Yesterday morning, she was quite prepared to tear the girl to shreds for playing with her, but now? What a little hell cat! Yet so demure in public. Her wrath will be saved for Eliza Priestley, the spiteful old swine. Anne smiles as she thinks about Ann. So much more than she had expected. She could be in love with her in no time at all, she thinks as her heart expands in her chest. </p><p>Ann can’t hide her excitement, as she sees Anne standing at the bar through the windows. She is sharp in a slim fit black suit, hair tied back, and is stood with another woman, wearing a very fashionable pale grey wide leg suit. And this must be Tib! Thinks Ann, smiling. </p><p>Ann had tried her best to fashion together something appropriate for a dinner out, on a Sunday evening. Knowing tonight came with the added pressure that she would be meeting someone very special to Anne. She couldn’t wear the wrap dress again, not after it had been thrown on the top of Anne’s car the other night. As requested, she isn’t wearing any knickers underneath her wool pencil skirt. She bites her lip as she thinks of it. Feels herself flush, as she walks towards Anne and her friend. Anne’s hand runs up her back as she moves in close to her, her fingers lightly playing with the luscious blonde curl that has dropped out of her up-do, smiling. She introduces Tib to Ann, and Ann to Tib, and Tib flashes Ann a very welcoming smile. Anne leans in to her ear and whispers:</p><p>“The first time I saw you, I wanted to finger your blonde curls. And now I get to play with both sets” and with that, Anne’s fingers skim her core over her skirt, as she moves to leave. She announces to Tib as well as to Ann that she is off to the loo. It takes all of Ann’s willpower not to follow her there. She’s bright red, flushed from head to toe.</p><p>"So, you’re Anne's little tart?" Tib whispers moistly in her neck, as she slides around the bar stool, far too close than is appropriate to Ann, pressing her to the bar.</p><p>Tib runs her hands around Ann's waist.

"You seem quiet this evening? Still spent from your morning activities? Your cries are delicious" 

Then, one hand runs slowly, lightly, up Ann's thigh. Ann freezes. This is Anne's friend, the one they meeting for dinner. So, why is she touching Ann like this? Is this normal for those two? Is she supposed to be ok with this? Is she expected to allow Tib to touch her?</p><p>Tib's fingertips trace along the inside of her thighs, as Ann squeezes them together. She isn't wearing knickers, at Anne's request, and she cannot allow this woman to find out. She takes a deep breath, and starts to push the taller, broader woman away from her. </p><p>“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this, I can’t”</p><p>Ann moves so quickly, she is already outside before she remembers anything else. Her pulse pounding in her head, adrenalin pumping. The last time she had felt this sick, this afraid, well, she doesn’t want to remember. But this is the same, the sickness and the fear. How could Anne have done this? Set her up to be shared like this. It really was all just all about sex to Anne, wasn’t it? And clearly, the more depraved the better. What an end to all her dreams, she thinks, as the tears pour down her face as she runs to the bus stop, to leap on the bus before it leaves. </p><p>Anne returns, to find Tib seated in a booth, grinning like the cat that got the cream, drinks lined up on the table for two, and a glass of white for Ann. Menu in hand.</p><p>“Bagged us this one instead! More intimate, no? They wanted us over near the door!”</p><p>“Fantastic! And whiskey!”</p><p>“Actually, a tasting selection! Four from my current top ten. See what you think!”</p><p>“Bloody hell, Tib! You not sunk enough already?” Anne’s tone brings a warning with it.</p><p>“What is enough, hmm? Come, dear girl and let’s drink to our good health and your good fortune!”</p><p>“Not sure how good my fortune is at the moment, but what the hell!” suddenly seeing the empty seat next to the white wine “where is Ann?”</p><p>“Had to nip out. Got to say, can’t recall if she said where. She’ll be back!” Tib replies, breezily.</p><p>“Ok, she’s probably had a call from one of her relatives, or something” Anne is distracted now. Who could it be that is currently dripping poison into Ann’s ear about her now? She hopes that whoever it is, Ann will return and hear her out. She suddenly realises that it matters that Ann chooses her, over whatever nonsense Eliza is trying to stir up. Anne would be devastated if Ann walked away now.</p><p>“You know Tib, let’s drink to my good fortune. I may not have a pot to piss in right now, but I really think there could be something there with Ann” She smiles at her oldest pal, her wing man, the one who she has shared so many adventures with, and shamefully, so many women with. Both older and wiser, those days long behind them. But still the greatest of friends. They sip the first, grin at one another, and knock it back. The liquor burning through their chests. </p><p>“Well, if the preview was anything to go by, she goes like the clappers so you'll be alright on that score for a while at least” Tib starts, choking slightly on the fumes of the whiskey.</p><p> </p><p>“Preview? What are you talking about Tib?”</p><p> </p><p>“This morning? All the 'I love to be fucked' business! I rang you, you answered, and well! What can I say, but you always land on your feet don’t you, eh? I mean, she isn't much to look at, bit school mistress-y, but that can be hot in itself, I suppose. And they always say 'quietest are the worst'. Plus, she's a lot younger than you are, so bonus points for that!”</p><p> </p><p>Anne is stunned into silence. Tib had heard her with Ann this morning?</p><p> </p><p>“Please, do not breathe a word to Ann that you heard any of that. She really couldn't stand it. She quite honestly isn't that sort of a girl”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you don't half kid yourself at times, my dear, dear girl! I've already been to yours, dropped my bags off and said hello to Aunt Anne. Marian couldn't wait to tell me about you having to wash your car the other morning, after, I assume, you had had the demure and lady-like Ann Walker sliding up and down the bonnet. Did she see the stars? Another move you can thank me for!” She takes another swig, from the second glass.</p><p> </p><p>“Tib! Enough!”</p><p> </p><p>“Girls like that are gifts from the Gods, they really are! But, you be selfish. You keep her until you run out of ideas of what to do with her. I'm happy to wait” Tib laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously, Tib. This has to stop. No more sleazy jokes at her expense. And for God's sake, please do not tell her that you were on speakerphone this morning”</p><p> </p><p>“I have no idea what you are worried about, my dearest Anne! You are clearly back in the game, and still very much on top...” Tib is laughing so much now, she can barely breathe. </p><p> </p><p>“Tib! Just stop it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, ok!” She peers at Anne, as they both finish their drinks. Anne is still bristling. Tib smiles, knowingly. “Oh! I see how it is!”</p><p> </p><p>“What? How what is?”</p><p> </p><p>“Is the pneumatic Miss Walker a challenger to Mariana's crown? At long last?”</p><p> </p><p>“I really don’t want to discuss...”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I bet you don't! Does Mariana know? Have you seen her?” Tib is intrigued.</p><p> </p><p>“No, and no. She doesn't know and I haven’t seen her because, well, it just doesn't seem that important anymore”</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh! Anne! What has happened here? Somewhere between that car bonnet and the scene this morning, you've finally come to your senses!” She smiles, she’s almost entirely forgotten that Anne’s date had left in floods of tears, and she could do with mentioning it. Maybe. She clinks the third whiskey glass with Anne’s. This really is like old times. Talking about girls… Drinking…</p><p> </p><p>“You know, I really think I have. I was just so tired of being played by Mariana, played by Vere. And for what? Ann is very different. I really believe that” And for the first time in months, Anne feels both at home, and relaxed. Here with Tib, chatting as easily as always, and the promise of a new love affair in the wind. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, my dearest girl, I would love to be a fly on the wall when Mariana finally finds out. She won't like being usurped by that plain, skinny little girl, and that is a certainty!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ann isn't plain. And she is slight, not skinny”</p><p> </p><p>“Dear God! Well! If she makes you happy, that's what matters the most. And are you? Are you really happy?”</p><p> </p><p>"It’s nothing too serious as yet. But I don’t know. I really think there may be something there. I just need the time and space to see if it's worth persevering with. And really, I don’t need Mariana, or you for that matter, complicating things”</p><p>“It’s a good job you can always rely on me to the soul of discretion, isn’t it?” She laughs, and takes another swig.</p><p>“Seriously though Tib. No drunken jokes at Ann’s expense. She would die of shame, she’s very sensitive, and I just couldn’t stand for her to feel humiliated like that. Where is she, anyways? I thought she was just popping out?”</p><p>“Wow. Ok. Firstly, I misread the situation as you know?” Tib nods, theatrically, getting Anne to do the same in response “Well, I put my hand up her skirt” Anne tenses, her instincts making her want to lash out at Tib “and she flinched and made her excuses. I just need to be honest. That’s why she left. You know, if you want to go after her, or ring her?” Anne stares at her, open mouthed. How long has she been gone? Where could Ann be now? “And I may have inferred that I knew about how loud she is. Because, she is Anne! My God, how you controlled yourself, you are a better man than I!”</p><p>“You did what? Good Lord! Why?”</p><p>“Because I thought she was fair game. I thought you had meant to have me hear you. I thought you were showing off!”<br/>
“No, I didn’t, and no I wasn’t! I need to call her, see how she is. Christ, Tib! Why do you have to get so bloody drunk and lairy? Why are you like this?”</p><p>“I’m sorry? Why am I like this? Perhaps you need to ask yourself that question! Why do you always try to take the moral high ground in these matters? You and I, my dear, are the same! Mary Valance? Hmm? Bottoms up!” </p><p>Tib clinks her glass against Anne’s. Both have drunk the same amount of whiskey as they chat, yet Tib seems no more drunk than Anne. Anne fixes her with a stare, knowing there is a smidgeon of truth to all this. It wasn’t too long since Anne had attended a party at Tib’s home, and ended up in bed with Mary Vallance, a girl Tib had only just introduced to Anne as her new girlfriend. Why had she done that? Because she could. It says something about Ann that she wasn’t as easily led as Tib’s girl had been. She must ring Ann. Check that she is ok. After Tib and Eliza, Anne isn’t certain how Ann will be coping. She isn’t certain she is coping that well herself. She stands.</p><p>“I’m off outside, to erm, to make that call!” And she walks away, stiffly, steeling herself to talk her way out of this mess. </p><p> </p><p>Ann sat at the back of the bus, even though most of the seats on the bottom deck were empty. Just an old man with a small dog tucked between his feet, and a young lad wearing a football kit, and most of the field. Mud caked over his legs. She had taken a tissue, and wiped her face, Anne Lister is really not worth any more of her tears. How many had she shed now? For how many years? But this is the worst of it. This is the final kick.  She gazes, unfocused, out of the window, unaware that the bus has stopped. </p><p>Harriet Parkhill spots Ann Walker immediately, and waves. Bounding up the aisle, Ann smiles faintly, greeting her old school mate. She and Harriet never had much in common, but they always pass the time of day whenever they meet. </p><p>“Hello there! I was just thinking about you today!” Exclaims Harriet loudly, as she approaches Ann and sits down opposite her. “You will seriously never guess who I saw!”</p><p>“No, who?” Ann feels like she is in another world. The real Ann is still in the restaurant, and none of what took place has happened. </p><p>“Anne Lister! And you will seriously not believe this, but she asked me out! She’s going to ring me in the week! She is still dead fit, too! Can you remember when we were kids? You had a right crush on her!” and Harriet carries on, gushing about what they had said to each other, how Anne had undressed her with her eyes. What she is going to wear when they go out, where they might go to. So excited to have a date with someone as impressive as Anne Lister. After all, she just works in a café! What would she have to talk to her about? </p><p>Ann is stunned. Silent. Hot tears settling under her bottom lids, not quite breaking out. She can’t smile, she can’t breathe. And Harriet is so thrilled with herself, she carries on her tale, and never notices. </p><p>“I wouldn’t worry” Ann speaks. “You probably won’t do much talking when you’re with her”</p>
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<a name="section0027"><h2>27. 44 missed calls, 24 texts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anne tries to work things out with Ann, and half formulates a plan.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Been a while - I am sorry! This is half of what I expected this chapter to be, so the next update should be far quicker!</p><p>Enjoy!!!! And comment, and comment away! Knowing you are out there reading this stuff powers a writer on!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ann can’t remember the walk from the bus stop, or how she had left things with Harriet, but she has found her way to Catherine’s door step, and is now banging on the door hoping her best friend is in. The lights are on, but there is no answer. She reaches into her handbag, pulling out her mobile. 44 missed calls, 24 texts. All Anne Lister. Ann chokes back a sob. No, she can’t be dealing with her right now. Can’t be thinking about speaking with her. She is about to call Catherine, when her phone rings again. She waits it out, it’s on silent, but the selfie she had put on late last night of the two of them is illuminated on the screen. What a difference a day makes, eh? Sat on the sofa, her arms and legs wrapped around Anne, she had never felt so safe, so wanted. “You’re an idiot” she says to herself, the phone continues to ring.</p><p>“Who’s an idiot?” Catherine suddenly springs up the path from behind her, carrier bag of Chinese take-out in one hand. “Blood hell, Ann! What’s wrong?” she exclaims, upon catching sight of Ann’s red puffy eyes. </p><p>“Catherine! Oh, thank goodness you are here!” The tears start again, as Catherine wraps her free arm around her. </p><p>“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Catherine asks, pulling Ann with her a little. Wanting to get inside. She lets Ann go, and unlocks the door. </p><p>“Well, I’ve made quite the fool of myself. I’m so hurt. Oh Catherine, I’m just so hurt, I can’t tell you!” Ann falls into Catherine’s arms in the door way, take away left on the floor. </p><p>“Anne Lister?” Ann nods into her shoulder, as Catherine strokes her head “Aw, Ann! I did say you had to be very careful, didn’t I? I’m so sorry!” </p><p>“I know” Ann whispered. “I know you did”</p><p> </p><p>Anne can’t imagine where Ann has gone. Vanished. She must have caught a taxi home, Anne thinks, and hails one herself, to Lightcliffe. She calls Ann all the way there, but without any joy. What must Ann be thinking? What exactly had Tib said? More to the point, what exactly had she done? Ann was clearly upset, or else she wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. She would answer her phone, surely, if all was well? She scans the streets as the car drives through, on the off chance Ann will appear. She doesn’t. </p><p>When the taxi approaches Lydgate, it is clear that Ann’s home is in darkness. This is not to say that she is definitely out, so Anne asks the driver to stay put. She knocks on the door, and the echo that reverberates through the hall gives her the impression that the house is empty. Looking through the windows, Ann is nowhere to be seen. Anne sighs, checks her phone again, it’s now just before 8pm. Only an hour ago she was still waiting for Ann in the restaurant – How the hell had things gone so badly wrong so fast?<br/>
Back in the taxi, Anne is at a loss. She asks the taxi driver to take her to Shibden. She has an idea.</p><p> </p><p>“I knew she had a bad reputation, but I had no idea about anything like that! I am so sorry, Ann. What an absolutely awful experience!” Catherine is frankly stunned at Ann’s description of the ten minutes she spent in the company of Anne Lister and her domineering friend this evening. And then the chat with the perpetually gormless Harriet Parkhill. Catherine had always known that Ann was blind to the gossip that followed Lister wherever she went, but that it didn’t matter, as she would never get close enough to get hurt. But she did, and now Ann was in pieces. </p><p>“I thought that she had more thought for me than that. I knew that she wasn’t in love with me, I’m not that daft, but I thought she had some respect for me. I did, as stupid as it sounds now, I really did”</p><p>“From what my Nan says about the tales she tells, she doesn’t have much respect for anyone but herself, and her posh mates. She’s only back here because she got dumped by some society girl she’d met in Paris. I’m sorry that she isn’t who you’d expected her to be. Do you want me to get my Nan to tear a strip off of her? She would too!”</p><p>Ann smiles a little, tears that had welled falling down her cheeks, and laughs lightly. “Ah, no. I’m alright” And with that, Ann falls into Catherine’s warm arms for a hug. Catherine kisses the top of her head, and smooths her hair. </p><p>“You will find someone, you know. Someone a lot fucking better than Anne Lister”</p><p>“Yeah. Harriet Parkhill is welcome to her!” Exclaims Ann. But her voice catches once again, and becomes a sob. She doesn’t mean that at all. </p><p> </p><p>Anne storms into Shibden, her mobile to her ear, another call to Ann yet again unanswered. She needs Catherine Rawson’s address. That’s where Ann will have gone, she is certain. </p><p>Marian is sat watching Antiques Roadshow, getting settled in to watch the costume drama that will be on later. Feet tucked under herself, curled up in the cushions of the sofa, a packet of crisps to her side, and a gin balloon in hand. </p><p>“Marian! Do you know where Catherine Rawson lives?”</p><p>“Hmph! Good evening to you too, sister!” Marian doesn’t even look around. </p><p>“Yes, Good evening” Irritated, “Do you know where Catherine Rawson lives?”</p><p>“Why? Messed up already?” Marian eats her crisps, a smile emerging on her lips. “Or has Tib buggered it for you?” Marian spins around to look at Anne, smiling. Confident she is right.</p><p>“What?” Anne feigns ignorance. “Well, do you know? Where Catherine lives?” Anne is blustering. Marian knows now she has touched a nerve.</p><p>“Yeah. But I don’t think I should tell you. If Ann Walker wanted to speak to you, she’d have answered her phone by now, no?” Marian nods to the mobile Anne has to her ear, as she calls Ann’s number on repeat. </p><p>“Whatever, Marian! Just tell me, it’s important. I’m worried about Ann” Anne sighs, exasperated.</p><p>“Yeah so am I, if she has anything to do with you!” snaps Marian, waving her glass in Anne’s direction. “Aunt Anne told you not to introduce her to Tib, didn’t she? So, what did Tib do?”</p><p>“Are you seriously not going to tell me?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’m serious!”</p><p>At this, Aunt Anne walks in “You two! Just stop!”</p><p>Aunt Anne, stands between her nieces, but it’s Anne she is looking at. Anne’s eyes were blazing a second ago, as she fought with Marian. But faced with her Aunt, she melts. The older woman grabs hold of her, and they hug. Marian looks away, po-faced and disgusted. </p><p>“Bramley Lane, that little cottage opposite the school” Whispers Aunt Anne.</p><p>“Thank you” Whispers Anne in return.</p><p>Aunt Anne pushes her back to get a better look at her.</p><p>“And what shall we do when Tib comes back here?” Marian asks.</p><p>“Nothing. I’ll deal with her when I get back” She snaps</p><p>“OK. But if Catherine isn’t there, or if Ann doesn’t want to talk just now” Aunt Anne fixes her with her eyes “No, listen! Anne! Just come straight home, hmm?” Aunt Anne cautions her, knowing that right now she is likely to do more harm than good heading over to Catherine’s, no matter what has happened this evening. But there is no point in trying to stop her.</p><p>“Ok, I will” She says it so quietly, only Aunt Anne hears her. </p><p> </p><p>As Anne leaves, a black cab rolls up the drive to the hall. For half a moment, Anne is convinced that it must be Ann. She stands by the door, waiting, hopeful. Until the cab stops, and she can see Tib fumbling in the back, drunk and searching for her money to pay the driver. Anne storms up the cab door, and flings it open, aware that Aunt Anne is standing in the doorway, watching her.</p><p>“Isabella! How lovely of you to join us!” Anne is curt. Tib is shocked.</p><p>“Anne! Ah, I will be with you in a second. Erm, I’m just looking for 50p!” Tib attempts to keep the tone light. Friendly. </p><p>“Don’t bother, I’ll pay it. Can I take this cab?” Anne addresses the driver.</p><p>“Yeah, no worries” he responds “Where to?”</p><p>“Hipperholme” Anne replies, her eyes boring into Tib. “Come on, get out. I will pay the 50p, just to have you out of my sight” Anne pulls Tib’s arm, dragging her out of the seat, and through the door. </p><p>“Everything alright?” Tib attempts a smile in Anne’s direction.</p><p>“Of course it bloody well isn’t! I can’t bear to look at you right now, just go!” Anne would dearly love to thump her, but not in front of Aunt Anne.</p><p>Tib steps back as Anne sits back in the rear of the cab, swinging the door shut behind her. </p><p>“Whereabouts in Hipperholme?” the driver asks as they drive away.</p><p>“Bramley Lane. Near the school” Anne replies, staring out of the window. </p><p> </p><p>Catherine has left Ann to sleep in the spare room. Although it was early still really, poor Ann is shattered. Now, she is on the phone to her Nan, Nellie Rawson. Catherine loves her Nan. She’s always there for her, always there for all their family. Her Nan also loves Anne Lister, and always has done since she first met the woman as a school girl. Catherine knows that her Nan still loves her more, but she wouldn’t be so sure with most of their relatives. She wants her Nan to tell her what to do, but mainly she wants her Nan to know exactly what her dear little friend gets up to. Anne Lister needs telling that her behaviour towards Ann has been utterly repugnant. And only one person is going to be able to do that, really. Especially if her Nan can get Lister’s Aunt on side.<br/>
Yeah, none of this will make Ann feel any better, but it will make Catherine feel better, and that’s something at least isn’t it?</p><p>It’s well before 9pm, when Catherine finishes her call. Her Nan wasn’t overly shocked. Catherine was amazed – yeah, her Nan was broadminded, but really? All Nellie had had to say was that no, Ann Walker would certainly have been out of her depth in a bar with Isabella Norcliffe and Anne Lister at the same time. But, she maintained that Anne Lister was genuinely a decent person. She would be surprised if Anne had meant for her friend to proposition Ann, if only because Anne wasn’t keen of women who got about too much. She choked at the notion that Lister would have the nerve to call another woman promiscuous. Catherine did get her Nan to concede, however, that Lister’s peculiar brand of knowing charm was perhaps not for someone as fragile and shy as their little Ann. Most of the past girlfriends that her Nan had either met or known of were women older than Lister herself. Widows, divorcees, rich dowager types with time on their hands, an interest in intellectual pursuits and a hankering for decent conversation, amongst other things. It wasn’t until Catherine got onto the subject of Harriet Parkhill that, finally, the elderly Mrs Rawson agreed that yes, she would speak with Anne Lister about this sorry saga. Her Nan still brushed this off, just Anne, she said, being Anne. Had Catherine never taken a phone number, requested it even, that she had no intention of calling? No? “Well, Catherine, I have news for you” her Nan announced, “Men do. All of the time. Without Anne actually calling Harriet, it quite honestly means nothing at all”.  Catherine is firm in stating that an apology, an apology about just all of this, would go a long way in rebuilding Ann’s shattered confidence. When Catherine ended the call, she had an uncomfortable suspicion that her Nan was both more knowledgeable about the ways of the world, as Nellie might put it, than she was. And, it was clear her Nan remained firmly on Lister’s side.</p><p> </p><p>Ann isn’t really asleep. She is laid under the bedclothes, hugging herself, quietly sobbing again. She could hear Catherine downstairs. Heard her on the phone – not sure who to, but probably her grandmother. She had heard her name and Lister’s mentioned, so it must have been. Catherine wouldn’t have meant it bad, but Ann would rather Mrs Rawson hadn’t been told about her humiliating evening. She would far rather only Catherine knew, and Elizabeth. She will tell her when they next speak. She can hear the “I told you so’s” from here. Ann sits up, pulls quilt to free her head. It’s then that there is a tremendously loud knock on the door. Ann’s heart is in her mouth. It’s Anne, she just knows it. Here to apologise. It’s all she wants. She knew it was all a huge misunderstanding. She jumps out of the bed, heads to the stairs to find Catherine in the hall, not answering the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it Anne?” says Ann, eagerly. </p><p>“Yeah, get back upstairs”</p><p>“No, she must want to apologise! I need to see her, I do. I’m sorry, don’t look at me like that” Catherine is staring at Ann in disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>“Your plan is to simply give her a pass on this? On the handsy mate thing, and the asking other women out thing too? Ann, get back upstairs. We’ll talk about this later” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not like that. But I know her and you don’t really. Not like I do”</p><p> </p><p>“I would say I know her better than you do” as Catherine starts, the knocking is getting louder. Next the letter box goes, with Anne Lister peering in, seeing Catherine’s feet on the stairs. </p><p> </p><p>“Catherine? It’s Anne Lister. Can you answer the door please?” </p><p> </p><p>Catherine looks at Ann. Lister clearly didn’t see Ann on the stair above. “Go!” and with that, Ann slinks off to the spare room. </p><p> </p><p>Anne is banging on the door again, as Catherine unlocks it. She swings it open, finding Anne Lister po-faced on her doorstep. </p><p> </p><p>“She’s here, isn’t she?” Anne starts. No explanation as to who ‘She’ is seems necessary. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, but she’s asleep”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, she can’t be now, all the noise I’ve been making. I do need to speak with her, so-“</p><p> </p><p>“So no. Sorry Anne. She’s asleep, and she won’t want to see you”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t believe you”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to. But you do have to go, so-“ Catherine attempts to close the door, Anne puts a foot in the frame, preventing this.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going anywhere without seeing her. What has she said?”</p><p> </p><p>“About you? Or about your handsy little mate?”</p><p> </p><p>“Both? Can I come in? I mean, the doorstep? Catherine? You can’t want Ann’s business to be known?” Anne had become increasingly aware that she had been thumping on a door in a residential area, on a busy road, in day light. She steps back, her arms spread in a ‘look around us’ gesture. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure it’s really you who doesn’t want your business out in the open. Don’t worry about Ann. I have her back” And with that, Catherine closes the door. </p><p> </p><p>Anne opens the letter box again. “You will tell Ann I called over, hmm? And tell her that I will be over to see her again too. That I won’t be giving up on her”</p><p> </p><p>Catherine sits on the stairs. Anne Lister is very persuasive. As soon as Ann sees her, she is going to forgive her everything. Catherine has to ensure that that doesn’t happen. </p><p> </p><p>Anne walks back to Shibden, having let the cab go. It’s not too far really, and quite a nice walk. Or would be if she were in a better mood. It’s just turned 9pm. The sun is low, the air is warm and it is still remarkably rural up here. Thanks to her ancestors, thinks Anne. They owned so much of this land, and none was sold until the 1930s, when Halifax’s Industrial Revolution star had finally faded. Nothing more to build, but a few housing estates on the outskirts, the land was still farms, or cottages for recreation.</p><p>How had things gone so bad, so fast, and in just two hours? Aunt Anne had warned her off from introducing Tib to Ann, but it had felt important for her to do so. Tib was her oldest friend, and Ann was… Well, Ann was Ann. Anne wasn’t sure how to explain it all really, but in just a matter of days, Ann had installed herself in Anne’s life, and Anne liked it. Wanted the girl there. But Tib, bloody Tib! It was true when they last met that Tib had introduced her to a young lady, who Tib had said was ‘The One’. But she couldn’t have been ‘The One’, as within a few short hours she was draped all over Anne Lister, spending that night, and several subsequent days and nights, in her bed. And that wasn’t all Anne’s doing either, she recalls. She wants a cigarette, She had almost stopped smoking entirely, this past week. But now the urge was powerful, and she wasn’t even carrying a lighter. Hopefully, there are still cigarettes in the house.</p><p>Had Tib really thought that Anne had intended to ‘share’ Ann with her? A girl in Halifax? And take her where exactly? A hotel? Shibden? No, Tib could not have thought that. Not really. The phone call was nothing, and didn’t have to be a part of the story, when she finally is able to relay it to Ann. Ann doesn’t need to know any details about that phone call. She doesn’t need to know about Mary Vallance either, but on balance, Anne knows that this tale is more palatable than the other. And as both are the truth, in essence, it’s what she will go with. Tib was bitter about Mary, and Anne hadn’t realised. And there we have it. Anne, almost, off scot-free! Will she be able to get Ann back on-side? Yes, Anne thinks. Eventually. How could she resist her charm? Especially if she turns it to full beam? Entry level stuff like flowers, or chocolates. If that doesn’t work, carefully crafted, languid love letters, or cute cards. And if all else fails, jewellery. That, in a nut shell, is the way to the hearts of all women. Some cave in for flowers, others after the receiving the most beautifully crafted love letter they have ever seen, never mind had written to them, and some, well some won’t give in until they’re in possession of something beautiful, like an exquisite piece of jewellery. Anne knows that she doesn’t care if it takes that long to win Ann over again. She doesn’t know how it is, but the girl has inveigled herself into her affections with lightning speed and precision. She will place an order for flowers later, for them to arrive first thing at Catherine’s, and also later in the day at Ann’s. She won’t try to second guess where Ann will be tomorrow, so best to spread the bet, to increase her odds.</p><p>Now, what to say to Aunt Anne? To Marian? As little as is feasible. And to Tib this evening? Well, she shall have to make sure she realises that this visit has been cut short. She must go in the morning. Anne isn’t sure what can be salvaged from their friendship this time. Perhaps they can say goodbye as friends, but the sort who simply send a card at Christmas? Anne has no idea as she walks up the drive to the Hall if she can refrain from thumping Tib or not. Even as she walks through the gate, and up to the door, Anne couldn’t tell you for sure what her intentions were with regards Tib. All she knows is, Ann presently refuses to speak to her. Her family have begun to guard her, and Tib is the root cause. And that makes Anne as angry as hell. </p><p> </p><p>Ann creeps down the stairs once Anne has left, and finds Catherine drinking a glass of wine and watching television. Looks like ‘Poldark’. All the women at work wax lyrical about this programme, about the actor in it, but Ann can’t see what they’re looking at. She coughs, so as not to startle her.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! You’re up? Why?” Catherine smiles.</p><p>“I wasn’t asleep, really. Not sure I will sleep” She’s twisting the hem of the sweatshirt Catherine has loaned her.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you’ve had a rough day. Want some wine?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Are the glasses in the kitchen?” Ann starts to pad towards the door at the rear of the room. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, and pick some crisps up out of the pantry!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ok!”</p><p>Catherine can hear Ann shuffling about in the kitchen. She hopes that this isn’t going to set her back. Her mental health issues, her anxiety and low self-esteem, are constant spectres at the feast with Ann. Catherine recalls her break down in the years after her parents died. She isn’t sure any of them would get through that again. </p><p> </p><p>“So, what do you want to watch?”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought you were watching this?” Ann pads back into the room, glass and crisps in hand. </p><p> </p><p>“I can put something else on?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think I mind really” says Ann, slumping into the sofa alongside her cousin. Catherine takes the crisps, and fills her glass. They sit staring at the TV for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“She will be back, you know” Catherine starts.</p><p> </p><p>“I know” Ann replies. Looking down, she doesn’t want Catherine to see her expression. No one has ever chased after her before, ever. Others who have upset or offended her have simply left her without apology. But Anne Lister had chased her to her cousin’s house, had wanted to see her, had wanted to apologise. The idea of this makes Ann smile uncontrollably. </p><p> </p><p>“So, you are going to have to be strong. You can’t be treat like this, and think it’s OK Ann, because it’s not”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I know”</p><p> </p><p>Catherine looks over at her. Ann is trying to hide her face. Catherine knows what that means. Whatever Ann is thinking, she knows Catherine won’t like it. She sighs, and tucks into her crisps.</p><p> </p><p>“The wine is nice” Ann says, brightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it is” replies Catherine, as she tries to ignore the sneaking suspicion that Ann will forgive Anne Lister, and that this is merely the start.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. There will be no more Ann</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tib is still at Shibden, but not for much longer. Catherine thinks she's helping. Ann is upset, and Anne tries to set her straight.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So! Many apologies for taking so damn long with this new chapter! </p><p>We're almost back on track here - Let me know what you think!!! All comments are read, and each gives me the push to get going!</p><p>Enjoy!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunday evening at Shibden Hall, and whilst Marian is trying to watch Poldark in peace, Tib is preventing this. Her self-pity cloying.</p><p> </p><p>“I honestly didn’t know how serious she was about her! Anne will come around though? Won’t she? You do think that she will forgive me? Don’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>“From what you’ve said, it’s not for our Anne to forgive you, Isabella” states Aunt Anne “It’s for Ann Walker to forgive you”</p><p> </p><p>“So, do you think I should have gone with Anne? To apologise?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” both Lister’s say in unison, Marian’s face leaving the screen for a moment to emphasise her point. </p><p> </p><p>“Isabella, seriously though, I am trying to watch this. Why don’t you get yourself a drink? Wait for Anne to come back?” Marian’s eyes filled with mischief. Their guest scarcely needs more alcohol. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yes, Marian. Would you like a tea too? Or a coffee? I shall make it!” Marian astounded that Tib is getting a hot drink, and offering one to her too. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you fancy a bottle of red? I’ll share!” Marian replies. </p><p> </p><p>“No, Marian. I think I’ve had enough for tonight, don’t you? Can you imagine Anne’s face if she returned to find me drinking her claret! Especially now, after all this.” Tib stands slowly, deliberately, and steadily creeps off to the kitchen. She calls back “I’m getting a coffee, and a tea for Aunt Anne. Marian?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll have a coffee with you”</p><p> </p><p>Aunt Anne glares at Marian, seeing a sly smile creep across her youngest nieces face. “You wanted her to be drinking again for when Anne came back? Marian, sometimes I despair of you, I do”</p><p> </p><p>“Well! Do you feel sorry for her? For either of them?”</p><p> </p><p>“For our Anne? Yes, of course I do. And for Miss Walker? Absolutely. And you should too”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmph” Marian knows she’s being spiteful, but Anne is such a colossal pain in the arse. Ann Walker, however? She’s a sweetheart. She will give Ann a call tomorrow, see how she is.<br/>
When the back door is thrown open, Marian and Aunt Anne both sit up straight. Marian looks at her aunt “She’s here!”</p><p>Aunt Anne jumps up, but she’s too slow, and Anne is in the kitchen before she can get to the door.</p><p> </p><p>“So, Isabella! Well done! Thanks for fucking that up for me! But please, you go ahead! You make yourself a coffee! Make yourself at home, hmm?” Anne walks around the huge table, towards Tib standing at the other side of the room, freshly filled cafetière in hand. She knocks a chair, the scraping of wood on stone echoing around the room. Finally, nose to nose with Tib “You really are un-fucking-believable at times! Look at you!!! Not a fucking worry in the world!”</p><p> </p><p>“Anne, I-“ Tib starts. </p><p> </p><p>“’Anne, I’ what?” Bellowing in Tib’s face. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. I genuinely had no idea”</p><p> </p><p>“You had genuinely thought I was inviting you to meet Ann, to do what exactly? What exactly did you imagine I was going to do in Halifax, with a woman who is a friend of my family? You tell me. Go on!”</p><p> </p><p>Aunt Anne sits at the table, her presence felt by both, although neither acknowledges her. </p><p> </p><p>“You know what I thought” Tib speaks quietly, and looks down. She doesn’t really want Anne’s aunt hearing about their past exploits, tag teaming girls in cheap hotel rooms. She looks up, placing the cafetière on the side. Finally making eye contact with Anne. “And you know why I thought it”</p><p> </p><p>Anne straightens, staring at Tib. She tugs at her shirt sleeves, fiddling with the cuff links, almost nervously. </p><p> </p><p>“Tomorrow, Tib. You need to be gone. First thing” Anne says, calling back as she leaves the room. </p><p> </p><p>Tib sits slowly at the table, looking at Aunt Anne.</p><p> </p><p>“She is going to forgive me, eventually, isn’t she?”</p><p> </p><p>“I honestly don’t know, Isabella. I just don’t know this time”</p><p> </p><p>Anne slams her bedroom door shut, starts to undo her top buttons, and slumps down in her chair. Firing up the laptop, she starts to search for florists. The flowers must be beautiful, expensive and capable of healing the wounds created by 10 minutes with Tib. Anne sits back, rubbing her chin, thinking. Yes, it’s a tall order. A lot to expect from a few twigs. The urge for a cigarette is overwhelming.</p><p>She gets up, goes through her coat pockets, then though her drawers. Maybe in the car? She jumps up, grabs her keys and slams the bedroom door behind as she leaves, creating an echo all over the house. Racing down the stairs, through the passageway, and out the back door to the yard. She unlocks the car door with the key, and climbs across the driver’s seat to open the glove compartment. Seven left in packet of ten Marlboro lights. How old are they? Does it matter? She smiles. Nothing worse than being without a cigarette on a night like tonight… The light almost gone from the sky, she sits in the driver’s seat and lights up. Looking across the yard, the stone walls and black iron gate. Home. Permanently, this time too, what with the state of the business. The state of Marian. And the state of Aunt Anne’s health. When did she get so old? When did Anne get so old? She can feel her eyes prickle with the heat of tears, and rubs her face and blinks fast. Sitting where she is now, she remembers Ann leaning over her, her Ann climbing onto her, and riding her like she was born to it. And now, well? There will be no more Ann. </p><p>But, Ann isn’t lost. She will be back, Anne is sure of it. Who else would have noticed what she hides under all that tweed, and those American Tan tights? Anne certainly wouldn’t have seen. Not without help. Ann’s help. Because Ann wanted her that much. She still must do, surely? She will visit her tomorrow. Get her to visit Eliza with her. Talk her ‘round on the way. She drags the last of the cigarette. Throws it out onto the yard. Must get back in, get those floral displays ordered. A simple bouquet just wouldn’t be enough. </p><p> </p><p>Ann isn’t sure where she is when she initially wakes up. The room she finds herself in is so unfamiliar at first, she checks the bed for Anne. It is then she realises. Remembers. There will be no more Anne. The road to Catherine’s spare room had been a long one, and once more, Ann was alone. And newly single, once again. From the absolute high of having Anne Lister notice her, to the absolute humiliation of being pawed up by Anne Lister’s handsy friend. What a difference a week makes, she muses.</p><p>But Anne was here last night. Only Catherine had stood between them, and that was probably right. But Anne ought to have the opportunity to explain. Ann owes herself that much, after all the years of wishing Anne Lister was in her life. Perhaps she should go visit Marian? And if Anne was also there? Well.</p><p>Well what? What did Ann think Anne would say, or do, cornered in her own home, and with her sister present? Ann knows there isn’t much love lost between the two of them. Oh, it was wonderful whilst it lasted. Like a fabulous dream where Ann was desirable, had confidence, possessed the ability to drive Anne Lister to distraction. Anne will be back, though, Ann was sure of it. </p><p> </p><p>Tib had set her alarm for 7am. She knew Anne woke early to get started on her day, but for Tib this was an alien concept. She didn’t hear the alarm at 7am. She didn’t hear its reprise at 7.30am. Or at 8am. She did feel the end of the bed go down at 10.15am though, and wasn’t too surprised to find Anne Lister perched on the end of it. </p><p>“So! Still here?”</p><p>“What? Oh! What time is it?” Tib is bleary eyed and confused, but reminded immediately of her promise to leave first thing. </p><p>“10:17am. I heard your alarm first go off at 7am”</p><p>“Why didn’t you wake me? Get me out of here?” Tib sits, wobbling slightly. Clearly still slightly drunk. </p><p>“Because where would the point be? You’d still be drunk” Anne replies, flatly. Emotionless. </p><p>“Oh Anne! I am so sorry! Did you get to speak to her? Set things straight?”</p><p>“No. No I did not. Her cousin has decided that Ann doesn’t wish to see me. She might be right. Who knows?”</p><p>“Anne! Oh, well, we’ve been here before! How many times with Marianna?”</p><p>“Ann is not Marianna” Anne replies, curtly. </p><p>“No, no of course not”</p><p>“So, Marian will sort you out downstairs. Don’t drive until you’re sober” Anne stands, smoothing her palms down the front of her trousers as she does so. 	</p><p>“Are you going to see her?” </p><p>“No, I’m heading off to see workmen for the cottage renovations. I have sent her flowers though. To both her cousins house, where I assume she slept last night. And her own house. We shall see, hmm?”</p><p>“I’m sure you shall get this all ironed out. You can talk anything off in minutes!” Tib smiles, hopeful that her compliments will wash.</p><p>“Ah, yes. With idiots and fools with no respect for themselves. Ann is a, well. Ann is a very different animal, shall we say” Anne seems very far away as she says this, before springing back to her senses. Staring at Tib. “Have a fucking bath, Tib. You stink of whisky. And cigarettes!”</p><p>“Oh, Anne. Not cigarettes. That’s you” Tib replies softly, anticipating another argument.</p><p>“Ah, right. Of course” Anne backs off to the door. Grips the handle, and turns. “This isn’t forever. You know that, don’t you? But I cannot see you, not for a while” Anne stares at the door handle in her hand. Turns it, and leaves.</p><p>Tib sits in the bed, watching the door close. No, it isn’t forever. But Tib knows that nothing will ever quite be the same again. Miss Walker or no Miss Walker. Anne has changed. </p><p> </p><p>When Ann unlocks her front door, she isn’t surprised to see a note shoved through. Excited, she grabs it, and tears it open. What has Anne written? But it isn’t a note from Anne. It’s from Eliza Priestley. She had dropped by last night, hoped Ann was safe and that she would soon come to her senses. Mrs Priestley! Anne had said she would sort this. Why would she want to now? Ann flops onto her sofa. Perhaps this will be the first time Ann stands up for herself! Show Catherine and Elizabeth that she is capable of looking after herself. Making her own decisions. She knows both her cousin and her sister love her, but they don’t think her capable of handling things herself. She makes a coffee, unable to look at the wall where Anne had pinned her like a butterfly, and takes it upstairs. On the stairs she stops, and remembers Anne holding her down, the steps digging into her body as she was fucked from behind. Ascending the stairs, she avoids her room at first. Her whole house now reminding her of Anne, and of the freedom and desire she had felt having sex with her all over the house. Running a bath, she must be immaculate for work. She has an hour. </p><p>Anne walks into town before heading off to meet another builder for another quote. Her trousers from yesterday morning in a bag, plus Ann’s little blue silk square. Dry cleaners, book shop, library, home. Anything else to add? Nope, that will do for now. The fresh air washing her hair of the cigarette smoke she had incorrectly attributed to Tib. Tib. What a dreadful mess, and one that could have been so easily avoided by simply listening to Aunt Anne. The trouble with Tib is, she has no decorum. None whatsoever. Anne is reminded of the time where Tib had told a truly filthy story to her Aunt Anne and Uncle James, over dinner. Uncle James had practically had a fit. Tib didn’t return to Shibden until long after his death. Anne was grateful at the time that Aunt Anne had relented at all. But now she wasn’t so sure. Down the steep hill, over the cobbles, and out behind Matalan and the train station. Over the road, and up Horton Street, and into the centre of town. First stop dry cleaners. Get her trousers back, drop these off. There’s going to be a lot less dry cleaning in a world that doesn’t include Ann Walker. She frowns. Not a funny joke, not even to herself. Checking the time, she sees she has 30 minutes before the archives open. A chance to see Ann on neutral ground? No. No she will wait for Ann to call her. If the flowers don’t bring this on, then she will send chocolate in the week. </p><p>The young man at the dry cleaners desk seems efficient, but when he returns, he says that she has two items booked in from last time, not just the one she had paid for. Anne is confused by this and starts to argue, until she sees the second item. In a much smaller clear plastic bag, attached to the same wire coat hanger as her trousers, lies a pair of Ann’s silk knickers. The very ones she had pocketed, and failed to retrieve.<br/>
The lad doesn’t bat an eyelid as he takes the bedraggled second pair of trousers in, together with the much stained silk square. He enquires about the stains. Any idea what their origin might be. He is poised, pen nib to the ticket, ready to complete the information for the cleaners. ‘Organic’ replies Anne quickly. The lad says they’ll be ready at the end of the week. A master of discretion, right here in the centre of Halifax.<br/>
Anne smiles to herself as she pays for the knickers, and for the trousers and square. Two good reasons to call in on Ann. To return her property. The square suddenly reminds her of Eliza Priestley. A third, perhaps even better reason to call in on Ann. She bags her cleaning, knickers and all, and leaves.<br/>
Straight into the arcade, and into the book store. Anne needs a copy of Keith Emmerson’s book on tax for holiday lets. She has to get up to speed with whatever John Abbott has been doing, and begin to get on top of all this herself. The shop front is awash with film and TV tie-ins, pulp romances and detective novels. She puts an order in for the book with the young girl at the till. Pretty. 20? If that! A tiny, dark haired little thing, with a tattoo of some description on her neck. All dots and lines. Anne finds herself staring intently as the girls’ neck, until the girls’ dark eyes suddenly flash, her gaze meeting hers. The young woman blushing furiously. No, not dots, not lines. A constellation. Anne smiles at the girl, offers her details and pays in advance. Fascinated at how clumsy and distracted her glances have made this child.<br/>
Would she ever be able to make Ann as flustered again, she wonders as she gazes out of the shop window. Why exactly does she want to? Why so keen to win back the dowdy archive assistant, when she could be taking a girl such as this one out one evening, to look over Halifax in her old Jaguar as the sun sets. And then? And then what? She frowns, as she nods towards the nervous shop girl, and leaves. She still wouldn’t be Ann. Ann who Aunt Anne adores, and who even Marian can manage to be friendly towards. Ann who borrowed her cousins clothes to liberate herself, to become someone else. Ann who stripped in the headlights of her Jaguar, and who lay down on its bonnet, without the merest hint of hesitation. Ann who went down on her in the bowels of the archives, where she was meant to be working, and attempted to do the same as Anne drove them up to Beacon Hill. Ann who had been terrified of Tib, and who had run like the wind back to the overprotective clutches of her clan. The flowers should have arrived by now. Anne hopes they do the trick. </p><p> </p><p>Catherine is watching This Morning on TV, and painting her nails when the doorbell goes. She pads out to the hall, to find a delivery driver with a huge pedestal of blooms to be signed for. </p><p>“Ann Walker?”  The driver doesn’t look up, messing about with a hand held scanner.</p><p>“Ah, no. But they can be delivered here”</p><p>“Alright” The driver finally looks up “Name?</p><p>“Catherine, with a C. Rawson, that’s R-A-W-S-O-N” She stands and watches him type it in. </p><p>“OK, well. Hope she likes them! They’re big buggers. I have another one actually. In same name? Lidgate. Couldn’t deliver as no one home?” The driver looks hopeful. </p><p>“Really?” Catherine folds her arms. “No, I reckon you should return those ones to the sender”</p><p>“Ah! No! It’s OK!” The driver studies the scanner “Looks like I have another address for them, if no one was home! Thanks for taking these ones, though!”</p><p>“No problem” Says Catherine, attempting to sound bright. She picks up the display, kicks the door shut and carries the pedestal into her living room. </p><p>Looking at them close up, they’re incredible. Huge peonies paired with cottage roses, in dusky pinks and creams. A beautiful cream silk ribbon holding the stems together, a crescent shaped wire cage allowing the flowers to climb up the back of the display. A card in a gold envelope, with AW written on it in black caligraphy. Easily two feet solid of impressive flowers, expertly arranged. And another one the same? Heading off to where? The archives, thinks Catherine. She must call Ann straight away, so it isn’t a shock. </p><p>But it’s as she picks her phone up, that Catherine realises. These flowers won’t be a shock. They’ll be a surprise. More than that, a nice surprise. They’re hardly a bunch of carnations from the garage. It’s a gift so exquisite, so well chosen, that Ann is likely to fall for Anne Lister all over again. She can’t let that happen, can she? What sort of cousin would Catherine be if she didn’t do something? She sends a quick text to Elizabeth. Just chatty. But asking her to give Ann a call. Catherine is worried about her. </p><p> </p><p>When Anne Lister stalks into the reception at the archives, Ann Walker may have been thinking of her all day, but she is far from ready to see her. Sitting at the reception desk, her hair pinned into a tight chignon, the lace collar from a pretty cream coloured blouse laid over her deep pink cashmere sweater. A vision scrubbed clean. Sensible and demure. Exactly as Ann always has been. Untouched by the modern world. Ann can feel her walking towards her. She doesn’t need to look up to know who is standing in front of her. Her mouth instantly dries, her heart pounding in her ears as she looks up. </p><p>“Ann, I am so sorry you were so hurt by everything last night” Anne speaks before Ann meets her eye. </p><p>“Ah, yes. Do you have an appointment today?” Ann stutters. Unsure what to do. What would Catherine do? Tell her to leave and never come back? No, what if she did? Ann wants to know why Anne Lister betrayed her. She has to hear her out. </p><p>“I’m not sure” Replies Anne, fixing Ann with her eyes “I believe so”</p><p>“Ahem, yes” Ann says, thickly. She opens up the booking system, and books Anne Lister into the basement viewing suite. “We could go downstairs. Now?”</p><p>“Well, that would be a good idea, I think” Anne says, almost flirting. She must tread very carefully, but Ann isn’t telling her to leave, so far, so good. </p><p>Ann is up, grabbing the key for the archive viewing suite, pressing past Anne as she leaves the reception desk, her breasts brushing Anne’s arm. Her heart stops, then races again. Light headed and nauseous. Ann repeats in her head over and over “I am not excited, we are not about to have sex. I am not excited, we are not about to have sex” as they descend the stairs. She is acutely aware that her underwear is wet. She sighs as she bends to unlock the door. She can’t give in, she must hear Anne out, then take a day or two to decide. Talk it over with Catherine. She won’t tell her sister, no. She doesn’t want Elizabeth worrying, so far away. That wouldn’t be fair. Anne is standing right behind her as she opens the door.</p><p>“Have you had any deliveries today?” Anne asks, closer to Ann than she had dared thought possible. </p><p>Ann turns, their faces inches apart. “We are not about to have sex” Her mantra coming out of her mouth as she turns to speak. The statement sounds so ridiculous, out in the open where it doesn’t belong. Ann is agog. Anne Lister isn’t. Her smile breaks through. This will be so much easier than expected. She laughs.</p><p>“I really didn’t think we would be, Ann. I’m here to talk. I want try to explain myself, if you’ll hear me out”</p><p>“Ah, no. God. I don’t know where that came from. Please go in, sit down” Ann is mortified. “I haven’t had a delivery, no. Why?” Anne passes her, and leans in to whisper “No reason”. Anne sits in the chair nearest the door. The large table has a chair placed at intervals, quite far apart. Ann perches in the one nearest to Anne.</p><p>“First of all, I am sorry I put you in the position I did last night, but please understand that I had no idea what Tib would say to you. I had no idea that she would speak to you like that, less any idea that she would touch you. She absolutely had no right to, and nothing she did was in any way sanctioned or encouraged by me” Anne is looking at her hands as she speaks, turning them over and over, a nervous gesture made to seem deliberate. Seemingly unable to make eye contact with Ann. </p><p>“You said she was your oldest friend” Ann starts, slowly. She knows what she needs to ask, but is afraid of the answer.</p><p>“She was. She is” Anne corrects herself. </p><p>“So why did she think I was there to be shared? Why would your oldest friend think something that?”</p><p>“Because, we have, in the past. We have shared women. Had threesomes. Once, I slept with a girl she had introduced me to. Who Tib was also sleeping with”</p><p>“You both slept with the same woman. At the same time?” Threesomes? This answer was worse than Ann had expected. What sort of person does something like that?</p><p>“We have done. Many years ago, when we were much younger”</p><p>“Oh. Well. I think I understand” Ann sits, unable to look at Anne now. Her head in her hand, looking at the table. “No, actually. I don’t understand. But it was a long time ago, so” Ann shakes her head. What is there to understand? Catherine was right. Ann is out of her depth. </p><p>“Yes, it was. I wouldn’t do that now. You have to believe me. Youth and opportunity can be poor masters”</p><p>“Yes. Alright. But Anne, that doesn’t explain how she thought I was there *for her*. It doesn’t explain how she knew I was *loud*” Ann hisses these words through her teeth. Embarrassed. </p><p>“She didn’t know you were loud” Anne blustered, unwilling to explain how that had come about “She just says stupid things at times. A lucky guess” Anne’s lip curls into a smirk, but she knows better than to let it be seen by Ann. Not the right time. </p><p>Finally, Ann looks up, and catches Anne’s eye. </p><p>“Anne, she thought I would let her have sex with me. Why did she think that? Who would give her that idea?”</p><p>“I fear who gave her that idea was Mary Vallance”</p><p>“Who is she?” Ann is stunned. She had no idea who this woman was. Who was she to suggest that Ann would be amenable to sleeping around?</p><p>“She was Tib’s last girlfriend”</p><p>“I don’t understand how she could have told Tib that I would sleep with her”</p><p>“No, I don’t mean that Mary said that. Just, that the situation with Mary might have made Tib think that. Well, that you *might* be… Ah! This is very difficult to explain, Ann”</p><p>“Well, keep going. I don’t understand what you are talking about at all right now, to be honest”</p><p>“No, I don’t think I’m being as clear as I might be”</p><p>“So, just be honest”</p><p>“Ah, yes! Honesty! Well, Tib introduced me to her girlfriend. Perhaps a year ago? And, well, the girlfriend –“</p><p>“Mary Vallance – “ Ann adds, attempting to speed the tale along.</p><p>“Yes, Mary. Well, she and I rather hit it off. Much to Tib’s distain”</p><p>“Hit it off? You kissed her?”</p><p>“I had sex with her, Ann. It wasn’t all my doing, but I certainly didn’t do anything to stop it”</p><p>“And Tib?”</p><p>“Well, Tib was still sleeping with her too. She didn’t know straight away”</p><p>“Wait, what? She was sleeping with you both?”</p><p>“Ahem. Ah, yes” Anne coughs, trying to pull herself together. The story is fast unravelling, and she is only just starting to realise that this tale may not be as easy to accept and move on from as she had initially imagined. </p><p>“And that was her choice? Or at your suggestion? At Tib’s?”</p><p>“Well, it certainly wasn’t Tib’s suggestion” Anne states bluntly. “It was hers. Mary’s. Her choice”</p><p>“Ok. What sort of woman behaves like that?”</p><p>“What?” Ann is shocked, and now Anne is firmly on the back foot.</p><p>“Well, sleeping with one woman, and then just” She flashes her hand through the air “Starts sleeping with that woman’s friend, behind her back. What sort of woman does that?” Ann’s face reveals her disgust.</p><p>“Well, I suppose I haven’t ever thought of it like that. It’s just sex, Ann. Everyone does it”</p><p>“No. No, they don’t. Not everyone sleeps with their girlfriend’s best friend. Not everyone sleeps with their best friend’s girlfriend”</p><p>“True, but –“</p><p>“So, Tib wanted her revenge? Or she thought I was the same as this Mary Vallance woman?”</p><p>“Tib didn’t want revenge. But yes. I think she did think it might be the same sort of situation”</p><p>“Wow. Ok. I half knew you would tell me something disgusting like that”</p><p>“Ah, well, I don’t feel that sex is disgusting”</p><p>“I just can’t understand it, I suppose. I just cannot believe how some women behave. What some women will do” Ann is feeling quite judgemental, and she doesn’t care. </p><p>“You wouldn't believe what some women will do, Miss Walker” Finally, riled, Anne spits out her words. Yeah, Ann had had a shock. But that didn’t mean she could be so bloody rude. “Some women would thrust their tongue down my throat in a busy bar on a Saturday afternoon, go down on me in a restaurant broom cupboard, or in a public library in the middle of the day. Some women would strip for me, and then let me fuck them over my car bonnet, on a dirt track off the main road, after they'd consumed their body weight in gin. You really would be surprised, I think, what some women will do”</p><p>Anne stands, and makes for the door. Ann jumps up, follows her as she almost shouts.</p><p>“Two of those scenarios were behind closed doors, I believe Miss Lister?” Ann chokes. Refusing to make eye contact, even though at the door, they were ridiculously close to one another. Such intimacy would only serve to expose her. </p><p>“Oh yes. Behind closed doors, indeed. So much of life is kept behind closed doors, isn't it? Ann?”</p><p>Anne traces her nose down Ann’s neck, one hand pinned against the wall next to Ann’s head, one hand trailing down Ann’s chest, over her bust, tracing her nipple as she passes. Her breath hitting Ann hard. Ann is panting lightly. Unable to hide how aroused she is. Her mouth wide, eyes fixed on Anne, as Anne pulls away. But not before Anne places a chaste kiss on Ann’s open lips. </p><p>“Anyway. I think that you should consider your next move, Ann. Think it through. Let me know when you have reached a decision” Anne steps back to take a better look at the girl, smiles at her handiwork, and is back out of the door within seconds. </p><p>Ann tries to stand up properly, peeling herself from the wall. She can’t concentrate, all she can think about is Anne Lister’s presence, Anne Lister’s words, and what they have done to her. Her core is throbbing, she can’t remember ever being this aroused. No chance could she carry on her work day like this. She darts into the toilets, hoping her colleagues are out for lunch.</p>
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<a name="section0029"><h2>29. A Decision to be Made</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A teeny, tiny fic-let to keep you going. It's a one hander - in more ways than one.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Your comments this week have encouraged me to post the start of the next chapter as a chapter in itself! Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ann races down the corridor to the ladies, as fast as her kitten heels would carry her. The echoes of her metal tipped heels rattling the tiles beneath her, booming in the way that only happens when the tiles are lining an empty corridor underground. Flinging the solid wooden door wide open, she immediately slams it right behind her, and carries on running into the room, checking all the cubicles for signs of life. Choosing the last in the row of three, she locks the door behind her swiftly, and starts to quickly raise her knee length skirt. She stops. Tries to catch her breath. Leaning back into the cold, emulsioned breezeblock wall, Ann closes her eyes, and she waits. Focusing almost entirely on her breathing, and its volume, she quietens down, calm, before her hands return to her skirt.</p><p>Picking at the hem, her fingers lift the soft, lined fabric up her legs. Eyes tightly shut, her clit throbbing deep between her legs, imagining that Anne is still here. That it’s Anne’s hands running up her thighs. The fire Anne has started inside of her in the viewing room now becoming an inferno. Her heart races. She almost hears Anne’s voice, her breath as it hit her neck minutes before, now instructing her to turn around. She does, eyes still shut, and faces the back wall. Her skirt now raised above her waist, hands on her thighs, one foot kicks the ankle of her other leg, and she widens her stance. She’s wearing tights over her underwear, but that’s ok. Her imagination has Anne, standing so closely behind her, she is almost pressing Ann to the rough cold wall in front of her, hands caressing the roundness of her bottom, eliciting a strangled gasp from her dry throat. Anne’s right hand moving slowly up her outer thigh, pressing into the flesh at her hip. All eager fingers and a solid palm. Ann can feel herself swoon, her body exhales a soft gasp as that same hand reaches around her, finding the soft stretchy waistband of her tights and knickers, now combined and rolled into one, long fingers running under that waistband and down Ann’s tummy to her sex. Her body emits a low moan, which ends in a sudden intake of air as those fingers find her knickers soaked, slit slippery from her arousal. </p><p>Her forehead hits the cold wall as the fingers find her clit, peeking out, so engorged and hyper sensitive. Circling it, at first gingerly, she remembers the fingers are Anne’s, so she presses her folds apart, making figures of eight over her clit with her middle finger, deeper and deeper into her folds, as Anne does when she touches her. Heart pounding in her ears, blood pumping behind her eyes, panting with the arousal Ann had felt mere moments before, when Anne Lister had instructed her to think about her next move. Finally giving in to sensation. Anne’s words playing over and over again in her ear, her breath hot on her neck and ear, Ann bucking hard, over and over, into the hand that is cupping her sex, into the fingers that are pressing and rolling her clit. Ann can almost feel Anne’s teeth scraping her neck, increasing her desperate desire. The speed with which her orgasm hits her is terrifying. Her breathing high and heavy. Her clit set alight again and again, her thighs tremble, knees shake, tummy tightens, her walls throbbing, pulsating, as those expert fingers massage and draw from her very core an orgasm of such intensity, that when her eyes flash open, she still cannot see. The grubby blue wall in front of her no longer in her vision. Anne is everything, Anne’s strong firm body pressing into her from behind, Anne’s hand reaching into her underwear, Anne controlling her sex, building the fires that rage inside Ann, burning her old life to ash and creating a feeling so intense, so literally blinding, that Ann forgets she is alone in the toilets at her work. She releases a series of groans and mewls so feral, so wanton that they could only be explained one way. The sounds of a woman about to climax, what else sounds as animalistic, as joyful, as debauched, all at once? Her thighs, her wrist, her hand flooded. Her breathing catching thickly in her throat, her vision returning, her left hand placed between her forehead and the breezeblocks, palm to the wall. The small twitches in her clit, those familiar ripples racing through her folds, serve to ease Ann as the fire begins to burn out. Extinguished by the all the cum that has poured from her. </p><p>She sighs. The hand retreats, and finds her lips. Tasting herself, thinking of Anne. How can she ever go back to how things were before Anne first kissed her? First touched her? Ann smiles. A smile that illuminates her whole being. She has no idea what she is doing, but she cannot imagine doing anything anymore without Anne Lister behind her. Pushing her out of her comfort zone daily. If Eliza Priestley were here now, Ann would know exactly what to say. She would tell her how sorry she is that Eliza never met anyone who made her feel as Anne makes Ann feel. And that she hopes it’s not too late for her to find the one who will, because absolutely everyone should experience these heightened emotions, the intensity, the sensation, at least once in their lives. Ann smiles. She needs to call Eliza. And she needs to be sensitive, to be thoughtful when she does so. It’s hardly Eliza’s fault, is it? And she has always been so kind to Ann in the past. </p><p>Stepping back and smoothing her skirt with her left hand, she unlocks the door and walks over to the row of chipped porcelain basins, to wash her hands. Hot water gushes instantly from the decrepit bottle neck tap. Watching the buttermilk scented soap foam over her skin, the brilliance of the bubbles, carried away by the hot water, rolling over the cracked glaze of the sink, still smiling. It’s only when she raises her head, in order to look in the mirror, she sees the stippling marks, the strident indentations in red, raised across her forehead. Ann starts to laugh. She doesn’t think she can stop. Through her laughter, she looks at herself in the mirror. Her eyes glazed by her orgasm and her mirth. She starts to cough, throat too dry to laugh for so long, and finally stopping to a smile. Only one thing in her mind now. She has to call Anne Lister. There never really was a decision to be made.</p>
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